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𝐈⨾ HUNTER IN DISTRESS
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ONCE UPON TIME, IN A DARK WOOD — well, more specifically it was a Thursday, around dusk, in a dark thick creature filled wood. To get there you take a left at the crying mountain, cross the river of siren calls, and then it is adjacent from the magical pebble. The branches twist and wind until barely a gleam of the sky can be seen. Usually quiet, there were snaps of branches and the pounding of footsteps. All accompanied by a blotch of red moving quickly through the trees.
The red was a hooded cloak that was adorned by a small girl who was running for her life. Growls and sounds of claws scratching trees chased her. Even in a wood as thick as this one, there were seldom places to hide when one is being chased by a beast.
That is right, a beast. Appropriately labeled especially in this situation. It was a monstrosity of a wolf. Twice the size of her and with jaws that could snap a bone in two with one bite. Five steps to her was one small leap for him. Yes, beast is perfect for him.
For such a long time, the wolf had been hunting her. She thought that he surely would have given up by now, but he held her scent in his clutches with an iron grip. He was getting closer and closer to finally capturing his prey with each attempt.
Out of breath and out of time, she quickly sprung up into the air and swung herself up onto a sturdy branch. She could hear her beast draw nearer. His pace grown faster, probably smelling that she was no longer moving. She readied herself, her back facing the direction he was coming from. Her knees bent, she waited for the right time. His nose was what she saw first before pushing off in a jump. The air from falling carried up her braided blonde hair and hood. Her vision was obscured, but she knew she would hit her mark.
With a thump she landed, but instead of feeling damp mud and grass, she felt coarse soft fur. Her fingers dig into the scuff around his neck and she gripped on by whatever means. She would equate it to riding a horse, but this was very different. It was more wild and far more difficult of a ride.
"Hey," she greeted the wolf casually, "how are you doing today Wolfie?" Almost instantly it tried to buck her off while snarling at her. "Oh, that's right I forgot, you hate that name. Anyways, you hungry? I'm hungry." Her words came out relaxed, being far past the short lived fearfully screaming stage. She rode atop a beast that was all teeth and claws, yet she did it with a crooked grin.
Grinding his teeth, he weaved sharply between the trees going as fast as he could. He jumped, bucked, and all around threw a fit. But she rode through the storm of his temper tantrum stubbornly. She wrapped an arm around his neck, squeezing tightly and nearly strangling him. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, but she could feel his drumming away as well. They both mimicked the thundering sound of a horse running to its limit with neither backing down.
