Wild Wars

50

A trail to burn 
~
Accalia
~

"So, you died here?" Cole's curious and silvery tone crept through the deserted area and he looked rather ... disappointed.

Accalia frowned slightly but nodded, tingles feeding through her in a weave of discomfort. She brushed a hand along her neck, where slash marks had been, but crept her fingers to the side, where Lycus bit her last night, a sealing of their bond.

A faint smile pulled at her lips, but she suppressed the emotions bubbling to the surface.

She gestured to the crooked, rundown church with a squinted eye. "In that church, yes."

Erisa grumbled under her breath and whacked Cole lightly on the arm, staring up at him with flared nostrils. "That is a distasteful question to ask, don't do it again!"

Cole covered his mouth slightly, but a smirk peeked through.

He nodded amusingly at Erisa, "Of course, I apologise Accalia."

Accalia forced a withdrawn, tight lip smile. She didn't mind.

If there was one thing Accalia knew about hunting, was to always go back the way you came and they returned to the deserted lands with a broken church that was barely holding itself together.

In that church, where she bleed out to her death, it was another time for her. She couldn't exactly explain why, but there was assurance here. All would be okay. This wasn't the end.

The sunset blazed down the sandy hills and left an orange sky that burnt reds and yellows.

It was enough for the vampires to slip out of the shadows and Warrin and Alexene finally emerged next to the abandoned church, scanning what remained.

They had to spend their time carefully to travel. From woodland, to dusty bushland, they had to be wary of where the sun struck and where to avoid it.

"Their prints have faded," Alexene announced, pointing her finger in the direction of where the Jeep was parked across the church. Cadence allowed Accalia to drive it. "They didn't stay here long, but they leave a burnt crisp in their wake."

"I can smell it too," Erisa said and sniffled. "It smells rotten almost."

"It may because they are weeks old. They leave death and flames," Alexene said and traced the huge and deep-rooted paw prints in a graceful stride.

They had their starting point.

"Hmm," Warrin mused, his black curls fanning against the cool wind and his bloody eyes looking to the setting sun that reflected no burns to his skin.

Accalia looked directly at him. "What is it?"

His eyes lingered at what Alexene shiny black loafers were tracing step by step that lead to the main highway that was scattered in burnt paw prints.

He had more of an idea than any of them.

"With wild creatures, you expect them to embrace their environment. We don't exactly know what a hellhounds environment is, but whatever it is, it doesn't go any further into the desert land. There prints are heading back the way we came,"

"So we came here for nothing?" Cole questioned with an ajar mouth.

"No, not all," Warrin uttered and smiled graciously at Cole. "They lingered here for sometime. I can see three dips of the sand covered in burnt mark over near the hills before they departed. I think they left after we left."

"You think they followed us?" Accalia questioned.

Warrin shrugged elegantly. "They are creatures that seek a master,"