The moon is golden.
Dominick is lying on the wet, soft earth, surrounded on all sides by rye. Yellow and strong, alive, so, so tall that it seems to extent far away into the sky.
The stars shine with a foreign light and the moon is golden instead of white. Spinning more and more into itself in a never-ending spiral.
Wrong, furious, prideful.
Golden.
He's dreaming.
He hears a cry, piercing and high, but not of pain, of fear, but of fury, of hatred and warning.
Like a thousand raging birds screaming all at once.
A threat to all those who invade The Moon's territory.
Ì̷̛̲͇̗̑̈́̚n̴̳̹͂̑̔͂̚ͅt̶͉͖̎̒̀̒ř̵̞̦̤͉̲̒u̴̧̹͉͗͆̕ḑ̶̒ḛ̷̬́̍́͛̎r̴͙̞͆̃̓͝
They cry. They roar and rage and condemn.
They flap their million wings and curse him with their thousands of white and soulless eyes.
They reject him.
Him of the smell of wolf and blood, of the wild in the veins.
And that's all that's needed for Dominick to dig his fingers into the loose dirt, for his face to smile and his chest to fill.
For him to laugh and laugh, the rye shaking around him, afraid of his thirst for a chase. His voice grows louder and louder, his laughter reaches the sky and mocks The Moon, drowns out the wrathful screams and makes fun of their threat.
Yes!
Yes! Exactly!
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!
He's an intruder!
He's a threat! A Danger!
Ǎ̸̛͍͓ ̸̞̬̉́Ḩ̷̃ů̵͖͝n̶̨̟̍t̸̩̤̙̽ḙ̴͛̂͜r̷͍̃̌̾!̶̺̾̒̓
"Come for me, Moon. I will take you down from the sky."
YOU ARE READING
The Wild Hunt
RomanceTrapped in a home where he doesn't belong and surrounded by a town that views him as a freak, Dominick finds solace in the forest outside of his small town, becoming little by little one more of the creatures in them. But when he traps something he...
