Witchwolf

ii

She ran as fast as she could through the dense forest, the thick underbrush whipping past her in hues of greens and browns as her heart sped and she panted with each breath. All she could hear was a deep bass voice in her head, almost in a whisper, "Don't look back, hon, just don't look back."

So, obviously, her first instinct was to fact check whoever was telling her what to do and in turning her head around to peer back at whomever or whatever she was running from, she saw a fright that made her legs and heart pump faster. She dug deep and urged her four legs to keep going - wait, four legs?

She skidded to a halt, her paws digging into the ground before she could completely somersault over the looming cliff edge that appeared prominently before her scrambling form. The trees around her had thinned almost completely and below her was a deep abyss which led to only Kore knew where. She whipped around to see her vigilant assailant, a giant black panther.

It languidly prowled over to her, its lips forming an almost sadistic smile as it exposed large canines, which looked about ready to devour her any second now. She had decided that she officially preferred house cats and that this big black feline was certainly not a witch's best friend.

Its fur was as black as midnight on a new moon, but what scared her most was its scarred eyes, which were a startling green, seeming to glow in contrast to its dark fur.

Those eyes bored into hers with nothing but a deep-rooted wildness and insanity, as if it was one step away from going feral and ripping her limb from limb.

Burney's breath hitched as the large cat continued its slow, leisurely path towards her, her sensitive ears picking up every thud as its paws hit the ground deliberately, almost as if it wanted her to wince with every pulse of his feet on the shaky Earth below them. Its mouth opened as it pounced forward, emitting a loud roar—

Burney flew up, her eyes snapping open.

She groaned immediately, though, shutting them tightly as the sunlight poured through the un-curtained windows and directly into her poor pupils. She flung an arm over her face and sent the other one groping over the arm of the couch to find her phone on the old end table residing next to the small couch she had collapsed onto last night, after failing to remove all the boxes and belongings from her truck in the downpour.

The doorbell rang again, its dull ring vibrating through her sleep-muddled brain like a lighthouse's beams on a foggy night, as her hand finally finding the rectangular box that was her smartphone. The text on the front read 12:30 PM as she clicked it on and got up off the lumpy couch. Burney threw the phone down after seeing it only had 23% battery life left, joy. She'd have to find an outlet later.

Trying her best not to stumble over the boxes she'd managed to bring in and shove into the what she now knew to be a very, very small cottage, she managed her way to the front door. Twisting the knob and wrenching it open, the lovely smell of ozone that comes after a big rain invaded her nose, along with the musky scent of pine. She smiled lightly as she saw none other than her cousin, Andy, on the porch, her three-year-old son Richie holding her hand.

Andy was a spritely redhead with a feisty attitude to match. She stood before the twenty-year-old in jeans and a t-shirt, even in just that, though, Burney felt outshined by a million watts. Burney smiled nervously at the small brunette who clutched at his mother's hand and seemed almost afraid of the witch. That was alright though, Burney was just about as shy of him as he was of her.

"Burney," Andy said with a chuckle, "it looks like you just got up," the redhead joked as she took in the girl's t-shirt and boxer-shorts clad appearance, stepping through the threshold of the house.