You Are Made of Iron

Chapter I pt. 2

​Stop screaming you fool! You'll alert the guard! Skersha shouted into her mind, causing the girl physical pain as the she-wolf's mind pushed against hers. Zeilla panicked and forced herself against the wall, trying to get as far away from the wolf as possible. Skersha realized Zeilla would not listen to her because of her fear, it was overwhelming her. Angrily, the she-wolf used her precious magic to hold Zeilla's body and mind in a strong grip, trying to both stop her from opening her mouth and screaming, and from hyperventilating from her panic attack.
​Zeilla froze. She couldn't move, and for the most part, she couldn't think. Instinctively she fought Skersha's hold, but that only made it worse. After only two seconds, although it had seemed much longer to the girl, Skersha let go of her. Zeilla sat where she was, paralyzed with fear.
​I should have warned you better. Skersha said simply. Zeilla knew that it was the closest she was going to get to an apology. She attempted to relax her tensed muscles, but when she tried her whole body began shaking furiously.
​Skersha seemed to take pity on her, or maybe she just felt that the girl's fear began to grow tiresome, because Zeilla could slowly feel her distress melting away. She wondered if Skersha could still read her mind as a wolf.
​Of course I can still hear your thoughts, girl. Skersha sneered. I haven't gone anywhere.
​"Shut up in there." The jailer growled, referring to Zeilla's screaming only seconds ago.
​She looked over at Skersha still in her wolf form, "S-sorry sir." He grunted a reply which might have meant something along the lines of 'apology accepted' if he were the type to say something like that. In reality, it probably just meant that he wouldn't go into the cell and beat her.
​Would it bring you to the point where you're not stuttering in fear if I change into my human form? Skersha asked.
​Zeilla nodded. Please do.
​Zeilla watched in amazement as Skersha vanished and then rematerialize as a human.
​"...Amazing." she whispered.
​What? Skersha snapped. The extra use of magic had put Skersha in a bad mood. But she calmed herself. I mean, what's wrong girl?
​It's just- you- Zeilla seemed unable to continue.
​I'm what girl? Skersha asked with a wearing patience.
​Zeilla had never seen anyone who looked like Skersha in all of her life. The form Skersha had taken as her human one was very tall for a woman. Her hair was a silky black, with a wavy quality, and so long that it fell past her hips. Her skin was a light tan, a bit lighter than Zeilla's bronzy tone. Skersha had long eye-lashes, deep pink lips, and a dimple on her left cheek. Zeilla stared up at her and marveled at how she could look so beautiful and clean in a place as ugly and grimy as this dungeon cell.
​Skersha grinned impishly. Really? I'm beautiful? The she-wolf smiled.
​And your eyes... they're yellow!
​Yes, of course they are. I am a wolf. And I am not one of those immature wolves with pup-blue eyes that never turn adult colors. Now, are you going to ask me anything or are you going to sit there with your mouth gaping open like a codfish?
​Zeilla had so many questions that she couldn't even begin to count them, but before she could pick the best one, she blurted out exactly what she should not have said. Why do you hate me?
​Excuse me? Skersha snarled intimidatingly. Zeilla should have known to stop, but she repeated the question.
​Skersha smirked, I don't hate you, stupid girl. What makes you think that I do?
​Zeilla knew that Skersha would not be amused with her reasoning, and she immediately thought of something else, anything else that would make sure that Skersha couldn't hear what she was thinking. Looking at the wall Zeilla thought, those cracks look pretty old, I wonder how they got there. It wasn't working.
​Ahh, I suppose that makes sense. You think I hate you, because you hate me. Skersha laughed, not making a sound but instead communicating telepathically, and the young girl cringed. Zeilla despised that laugh, she feared it, and Skersha knew. Her laugh, a sound that by all right should be happy, was a cruel laugh. It was the laugh of someone who enjoyed being in control, and was. Zeilla touched the biggest scar on her left arm, a gash stretching from her upper arm to her wrist, which she had received when a furious guard lost his temper and cut her with his sword. She rummaged quickly through her memories, painful ones usually blocked Skersha out the best, and tried to find a memory powerful enough to counteract the she-wolf's forceful magic. She thought about her most painful memory. She thought about the night her mother abandoned her. That usually worked to block her out, but apparently this time it wasn't enough. Her mind couldn't focus.