Bronze

Chapter 16

Leah

Sofie's black hair shined in the bright sunlight of the afternoon. She was giggling, laughing, as she twirled herself, her arms spreading out like wings to keep her balanced.

A small bunny, grey as the clouds in the sky, hopped closer to her, its head inclined to see the clumsy creature. 

She stopped and wobbled her head around, her eyes rolling with her body before she collapsed. She sat in the yellowish grass, head in her hands, as she tried to control her balance. 

The bunny got closer and closer, its little pink nose sniffing the air to see whether Sofie was a predator. She was neither prey no predator at the moment. Still unable to control her shifts, and clumsy on both four legs and two, she was no danger to anything. It wasn't until she could control herself, talk with her wolf, that she would be a hunter, powerful against most mortal creatures.

A sense of pride swelled in my heart. My sister would be the best hunter around, I'll make sure of it. 

She leaned back, moving her legs from underneath her, and bent low. Crouched, she could easily see her prey without being spotted herself. The bunny, who had determined that Sofie was not at all a threat, had turned its back to her to nibble on fresh weeds.

Unable to growl, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The rabbit turned its head slightly, seeing her through his peripheral, but noting how she hadn't scared him before, he resummed his mindless chewing. 

"Go ahead, Sofie," I urged her. She looked up at me with twinkling blue eyes, the same shade of electric sapphire blue that I had, and smiled. Her teeth had barely come in, her canines more blunted than a butter knife. 

Pushing her shoulder in the direction of the small rodent, I reassured her that she was good enough. As her red daisy patterned tank top blew in the breeze, she lowered herself once more and got ready to strike. 

The rabbit squealed as Sofie latched her teeth into its fur. It kicked its legs looking as though it were running in the air. Then it started kicking her with its back legs. 

She shook her head forcefully, shaking the poor animal in her mouth. 

The bunny got one good kick to her cheek, and she dropped it. It ran fast to the nearby trees, looking for a place to hide from the unsuspecting predator it had underestimated. 

I picked her up in my arms and held her close as she cried. I soothed her back, rubbing up and down to try and calm her. 

"It's okay," I cooed in her ear. She shook her head and nuzzled my shoulder, drawing me closer. "You'll get it next time, Pumpkin," I said, smiling at the nickname I had given her when she was born. When I first saw her, laying in the hospital crib, covered in fuzz and orange, slimy skin, she looked like a pumpkin. From then on, even after her jet-black hair came in, I'd call her that.

Her tiny, stubby fingers gripped my shirt. The tears had stopped now, and she was becoming tired. I rocked, moving my upper body in a slow, deliberate way to get her to fall asleep. If she went to sleep now, the quicker I could get her back to her own bed by nightfall. 

I took one step, and she startled awake, stretching her small arms out behind her and yawning. Then, with eyes wide open, she stared at me.

Looking up at the sky, watching the sun and where it was positioned, I asked her, "Want to go home?"

She frowned, deep lines creasing between her brows and her mouth. She wiggled and thrashed against me, demanding to be put down and be allowed to play. I obeyed.