Drakonis

Humans

My mother held me close, her heartbeat pounding against my cheek as we peered down through the dense foliage. The humans were dangerously close to our base, their figures barely visible through the branches.

How did they find us? The question echoed in my mind, drowning in fear.

"I thought I saw something, General," one of the men murmured, his voice tense and unsure.

"I can smell them... we're getting closer," a woman's voice sneered, dripping with cruel anticipation.

"We should head back to camp and report this to the commander," one suggested, his voice trembling slightly.

"No, we're too close now," the woman retorted, her tone insistent and dark. "We need to find them."

My heart raced as I whispered, "Who are they talking about?" My mother's hand clamped over my mouth, her grip tight and desperate. I could feel her entire body quivering, and a chill of dread ran down my spine as the gravity of our situation sank in. We were not just in danger; we were on the brink of being discovered.

The voices below grew louder, and the sounds of footsteps moved closer to our hiding spot.

"We need to move," she whispered urgently to my father, her voice barely audible.

"Stay as quiet as you can" he whispered back.

I nodded, trying to steady my trembling hands. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig seemed magnified, a potential giveaway of our position. The humans' voices carried a sense of menace, their words slicing through the air with a chilling certainty.

"We've got to be close," the woman's voice said, her tone dripping with dark satisfaction. "They can't be far."

I heard the crunch of footsteps approaching our position. My mother's breath quickened, and she pulled me even closer, trying to hide us as best as she could. I could feel her body trembling with a mix of fear and determination.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of how precarious our situation was. The footsteps grew louder, and I could make out the vague shapes of the humans moving beneath us. My mother's hand tightened around mine, her fear palpable.

Just as I thought they would discover us, the footsteps paused. I held my breath, my entire body tense with anticipation. The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating.

Then, a new voice cut through the quiet, commanding and authoritative. "Hold your position. I want to check something."

My mother's grip tightened, and we remained perfectly still, barely daring to breathe. Every second felt like an eternity as we waited, hoping against hope that we wouldn't be found.

The silence stretched painfully as we clung to each other, the tension nearly unbearable. I could hear the distant sounds of the humans shifting, their voices hushed but urgent.

"General, it's just a rabbit" a man asked, his voice tense.

"Darn it," the woman replied sharply. "They're still close. I can feel it."

I could feel my mother's fear radiating through her. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her fingers digging into my skin. The suspense was almost too much to bear. Each sound seemed magnified, every movement a potential threat.

The footsteps started again, this time moving away from our hiding place. I could hear the crunch of leaves as they walked off into the distance, their voices growing fainter.

My mother remained still, not daring to move or make a sound. Her eyes were fixed on the direction the humans had gone, her expression a mix of relief and worry. I could see her trembling slightly, the fear still gripping her.

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly eased her grip on me, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "We need to go," she whispered urgently, her voice barely above a breath.

We carefully jumped from the tree, each movement deliberate and cautious. My mother led the way, her eyes darting around for any sign of danger. The forest seemed eerily quiet now, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves as we moved.

As we crept away from the area, I could still feel the adrenaline coursing through me, my mind racing with the events of the last few minutes. My mother's face was pale, her eyes still wide with fear, but her movements were steady, determined.

"We have to find a safer place," she said softly to my father, who held her tenderly, her fear palpable in every trembling word. "We can't stay here. Not with them so close."

"Thalia, we cannot just up and leave," he stressed, his voice laden with the weight of their situation. But she shook her head harshly, determination hardening her features.

"I will not be a sitting duck as we allow them to get closer to our family," she shouted, tears streaming down her face. Her voice cracked with a mixture of fear and anger, reflecting the dire threat they faced.

"Loran, go find your grandmother," my father commanded urgently.

I nodded and sprinted towards the base, but the echo of my mother's anguished cries followed me, a chilling reminder of how much the humans hate us.

Their people, ruthless and relentless, was still determined to annihilate us, to wipe out our lineage and claim dominion over what we had built. The shadows of their hatred loomed closer, and every moment spent in the open drew us nearer to their grasp.

"Grandmother!" I shouted, my voice strained from the exertion as she stood up, her confusion mirrored in Olympia and Ashely's worried faces.

"Mother," I gasped, catching my breath. "Mother, we saw humans close to the base... Father needs you." Her face tightened with urgency as she immediately rushed towards the exit, her previous confusion replaced by a determined stride.

Aunt Eldrith hurried over, her eyes filled with concern. "Loran, what do you mean humans close?" she asked urgently as she helped me sit down, her hands steadying me. I took a moment to gulp down some water, the cool liquid barely quenching my parched throat but refreshing my spirit.

"The humans are getting too close," I explained between breaths. "They're determined to destroy us—Father says we need to leave before it's too late." My voice wavered with the gravity of the situation, the danger they posed weighing heavily on my mind.

A crowd had gathered, their anxious murmurs growing louder as I seemed to have made a scene with my shouting. Faces turned toward me, their expressions a mix of concern and fear. Aunt Eldrith's commanding voice cut through the noise.

"Ashely, take Olympia with you to your mother," she instructed firmly, her eyes locking onto her daughter's. Ashely nodded quickly, her face set in a grim expression, and she gently guided my sister out of the room. Their departure was swift and purposeful, a small semblance of order amidst the chaos.

Aunt Eldrith turned back to me, her gaze intense as she tried to piece together the full scope of the threat. "Tell me everything you saw and heard." Her tone brooked no argument, reflecting the gravity of our situation and the urgency of our response.