"Come on!”
The two figures stumbled through the woods blindly. Oscar had latched onto Larkin’s wrist, desperately tugging her across absolute darkness. “Faster Larkin!”
Larkin’s heart tumbled in her chest, her stomach rolled awash with terror and nerves.
After the never-ending lights of the village, Larkin underestimated the utter blackness of nighttime in the woods. In her mind the trees would be black trunks against a bluish charcoal sky, the path would become deepest brown and the moonlight would bleach the stones with it.
Hadn’t every painting of woods at night been like that>
Even if there was a moon tonight, its silvery rays would not penetrate the dense canopy above. They were too far in to turn back, the twilight she had mistaken for night had passed rapidly. It could be no blacker in a coffin, six feet under and piled high with dirt.
“Oscar-″ Larkin wheezed as she tripped over a root-only to straighten by the sharp yank of his hand, a stray branch sliced her cheek, drawing a thin line of bright red blood. “Oscar please-”
“No time, he will find us!”
She began to breathe the cool air more rapidly. The darkness pressed in on them from all sides and her body, now conscious of their escape and possible freedom, screamed for her to run.
Larkin’s heart leapt up to her throat as she dared a glance over her shoulder at the retreating trees. They were escaping. Adrenaline surged through her body at that moment, tunnelling her vision at the prospect of finally leaving her life of slavery behind.
Oscar had saved her.
She was going home.
Her family.
Those thoughts are what propelled her feet forward, such that she was almost shoulder to shoulder with Oscar - she clutched his own clammy hand feverishly, forbidden excitement burning the back of her eyes.
No more Wynter.
“Faster,” she found herself whispering as they ducked beneath low gnarly branches and leapt over felled trees. Cold perspiration surfaced along her forehead and upper lip, trailing thin rivulets down her spine.
The woods broke away briefly as both figures sprinted across the low meadow and cut through another part of uncharted territory. There grew an ache in her belly, of hunger or despair.
Sweat slicked their skin, fell upon the earth beneath their feet. They grew dirty, then dirtier. Dust and broken bits of leaves clung to their legs. The world around them narrowed to the pounding of their feet and the next dusty yard of road.
Finally, after an hour? Two? They could go no farther. Larkin bent over in pain, the rush of blood deafening in her ears. The path was heavily wooded now, on both sides, and the village was a long way behind them.
“I think,” Oscar wheezed, clutching his knees before straightening and peering towards the path where they came from, “I think we’re fine.”
We’re fine.
Larkin’s muscles grew wobbly and weak, her feet jumbled together. Yet, at the sound of his words, she felt something full bloom within her - it was not fear, nor was it terror, the feeling was something light and before either of them knew it she flung herself onto the boy wrapping her arms around him tightly.
Oscar stumbled back upon impact startled, his hands rose and hovered over her back feeling the sharp pounding of her heart against his own chest.
“Thank you!” Larkin sobbed, unable to truly cry. “Gods Oscar! How did you- if you never came-” suddenly he was pulling away and cupping her face with both calloused hands. Such familiarity clogged her throat as he smiled into her eyes.
“I would always find you, Lark.”
They were sweaty. They were dirty. They reeked to the high heavens. But it did not matter at that moment, not when freedom which once slipped between her fingers like fine sand, now held her. Larkin inhaled a long shuddering breath as their foreheads touched.
Her ears buzzed dully - with cicadas, with the shrill of frogs, with the rasp of her own breath.
And then there was something else. The barest sound, just at the limit of hearing. But she caught it, and her skin, even in the heat, went cold. She knew that sound. It was the sound of stealth, of an animal attempting silence. It had been just the smallest misstep, the giving away of a single leaf, but it had been enough.
Larkin strained to listen, fear jumping in her throat. Where had it come from? Her eyes tracked the woods on either side. She dared not move; any sound would echo loudly up the slopes. She had not thought of the dangers as they ran, but now her mind tumbled with them: Kade tracking them, Wynter finding her. Or bandits.
Her fingers pinched themselves white as she tried to still all breath, all movement, to give nothing away. “Shh,” she whispered and Oscar grew stone still, feeling her own body tense.
Suddenly, he could hear the environment around, their intimate bubble popping to reveal an unnerving silence. An unnatural silence. The kind where all animals and prey would fall silent as a predator stalking.
There was movement from the woods at her side, and she jerked her head towards it. Too late.
Something struck Oscar from the side, throwing him sideways like a doll.
Oscar fell with a cry, his voice muffled as the darkness rushed for him again, large canines clamped down on the boy’s ankle crunching bone and with ease - began to drag him into the woods.
Larkin had remained frozen in place, far too shocked to react at the sight of the creature - a wolf, far larger than anything she had ever seen with oiled obsidian dark fur and glowing ember eyes.
“Larkin!” Oscar’s incongruous cries are what snapped her into action. She raced towards the two, stumbling over her own two feet whilst fixating her eyes on the crown of Oscar’s head.
“Stop!” Larkin bellowed, her own blinding courage briefly numbing the fear. “Hey!” She grappled at a random thick stick and sprinted towards the creature.
As though sensing her approaching figure, the wolf’s attention snapped in her direction. He released Oscar’s ankle, upper lip drawn back in a vicious snarl.
Larkin skidded to a halt, cautious eyes darting between Oscar who was crying on the floor whilst cradling his ankle. Her mouth grew bone dry; “S-stay back-” She began, unable to still the tremors of her hands.
The wolf’s body seemed to grow and grow still, stalking towards her like a predator would its prey. Forcing her back until her body touched something rough and ragged, the bark of a tree.
Larkin swallowed the lump of fear clogging her throat, drawing remnants of courage as the creature steadily ate the space between. She edged as far back as the tree would let her, conscious of Oscar’s pained groans.
“Run, Lark-”
A deafening growl escaped the wolf, pinning her feet to the ground. Suddenly, it began to hunch over itself, sickening sounds of bones popping and realigning themselves. Fur sunk into what appeared to be skin, its claws retracted and fingers took its place.
Larkin watched dumbfounded as the wolf curled into itself before slowly stretching vertically, on bipedal feet. What was once unfamiliar now took familiarity.
Blood drained from her face as its final form took shape.
Kade’s vicious gaze latched onto hers.