THE ORACLE: Queen of Rogues

Woods [2]

The sky continued to weep for me as the night went on. My small shelter was able to protect from the tears of the moon goddess. The paper that offered an award for my capture was now soggy, and the words were fading. I grab a small snack from my bag, and begin to nibble on the granola bar.

How was I involved in the murder of Rachel Power?

Rachel power had gone missing years ago. No one knew where she was, everyone assumed she was dead by now. She was stolen right from the crib. The Power Pack never gave anymore information than that. They sent out a threat to anyone who took her, then searched every pack. No pack denied them entrance, they were royalty in our eyes. King Sibierious was a lycan. He ruled over Power Pack 80 years ago. He managed to establish a set of laws to keep the werewolves from killing each other, and destroying the peace we have. All packs were at peace with each other, thanks to King Sibierious. The only real enemy are the rogues.

Tying my wet hair up into a ponytail, and shoving my boots on, I began on my journey through the woods. Again, I let the wind guide me to where I am supposed to be. The rain slowly stops as my feet continue to crush the dead leaves. My only thought right now is, what is my pack thinking right now? I've never been gone a full day. They probably think someone stole their precious Oracle; but I do not belong to them. I belong to the grass, the flowers, the trees, and the woods. This is where I belong.

I stop to pick a few berries from a small bush. A small group of critters look up at me, pleading for some berries. I do as the moon goddess would do, and feed my children. The woods is my home, and the animals are my children. Five hours later, and I have no idea where I have travelled. The fading scent of a rogue lingers in the trees. I have no proper training, and no weapons. If a rogue were to attack right now, I'd probably be dead. Perhaps it'd be better if a rogue took me out before I was captured for the Power Pack.

I do as I did before, making myself a small shelter, from bark, twigs, and branches. I lie down, relaxing as the birds song has me under its spell, and soon falling asleep.

___

My eyes flutter open, catching the sight of silver hair and silver eyes. My eyes flutter close. All I see is darkness. This is it, this is the moment the moon goddess has wept for me. I let my body lay limp in the arms of a stranger taking me to meet death. I keep my ears open, hoping to hear a familiar voice. I keep my nose sniffing everything in, hoping to smell someone from the Vitriolic Pack.

Nothing.

No one is going to save me. No one is going to save the almighty Oracle. Why did they say I was so amazing? I can only see death and destruction, never good. I see visions, that rattle my bones. I feel my inside being pulled apart as I watch a feral rogue rip into another wolf. I feel their pain, I feel their emotions, I see their pain, I see their destruction.

My pack used to say that I was a gift from the moon goddess, but this 'gift' is my nightmare. I am not a gift, I am a messenger of death and doom.

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