A legend of magic

Sprinting

Hiding behind a tree, crouching for what feels like hours I watch the deer as it's nose nuzzles against the ground eating. I lower my body, bracing my back legs and pounce. I feel my claws dig into the deers neck before I pull them back slitting it's throat. It drops, becoming limp and I lick my claws clean before lifting it over my back to jog out of the forest triumphantly.

At the forest edge I pause to transform back to the less shocking form of a human. After changing into the clothes that I had left for myself; simple black skin trousers tucked into dark brown boots and a white cloth blouse being held together by my self made belt holding a small knife, I half carry half drag the doe up to the small cottage that overlooks my father's farm. It's just my father and myself making do with what we have, which isn't much. A young Shire mare, a goat and a few chickens is all we have to offer for animals but our wheat keeps us going in terms of money and putting dinner on the table. Also the skills I have come in handy for hunting game. My father says I come from a long line of shifters, my mother was killed because of it, had they known about me then I would've ended up the same way. Pretty good reason for my father to buy a farm away from town. The issue is that shifter can only change into one animal that is decided at puberty by the kind of person who you are, were or will be. In other words; your inner self. Unfortunately for me my inner self came out as a black panther, took a while for my father to find out what it's name was, had to ask every peddler who came to town. I had to hide in the forest until I could control the shift, hard to walk around with a long black tail and ears just popping out whenever they felt like it. Although my sense are heightened even in my human form and I'm stronger and agile so really, I can't complain.

Reaching the small shed on the side of the cottage I open the door and drag the doe through to begin skinning and preparing the meat. This will give us at least a week of meat but nothing beats the first slice. My mouth starts to salivate in anticipation, a feast for dinner. I'm shaken from my food induced day dream when I hear footsteps coming from the other side of the door. "Jamie when you're done in there don't forget to brush down the horse," slightly jumping at the sudden sound of my fathers voice I nod my head in response before remembering he couldn't see through walls.
"Yes father, will be done in a minute" I say quickly before getting back to skinning.

My father didn't believe in naming animals, didn't think it was wise to get attached. So I took it upon myself to name the mare Willow. Making short work of brushing her I decided to take her for a walk along the forest edge before the sun set. Something that smelt odd wafted from the forest, something that didn't belong. Willow could sense it too as her ears were continuously flicking about. Then I heard it. An agonising scream that made birds leave their perches pierced my ears. Deciding it would be faster if I shift instead of lumbering a horse through the dense trees, I leaped from Willow and landed on the ground on four large fur covered paws. I sprinted in the direction of the now gone scream, relying on a scent that reminded me of wet dog to keep me on the right path.