Post by taylowe on May 20, 2017 1:02:24 GMT -5
The musty smell of damp earth tickled my nose, and I had to resist the urge to rub it or, worse, to sneeze. Something big had scared off my tag, an impressive buck, and was heading this way. I ducked behind some thorny shrubs and underbrush as I waited to see what manner of creature it was. I licked my lips in anticipation. My gut told me it wasn’t a norm—a normal human. While norms were pretty clumsy, whatever was heading this way was making a lot of noise.
I was pretty sure that a drunk-off-his-ass redneck tromping through the woods wouldn’t make this much noise. My gut was right. The largest beast I’d ever seen emerged from the trees and stepped out into the small clearing. It stood about fifteen feet from me. The beast moved with a grace unnatural for its size as it stopped in almost the exact same spot as the buck I had been hunting only a minute ago.
The beast’s massive paws, a little bigger than my hands, moved with predatory silence as its dark nose hovered inches from the ground. It looked like a wolf, except that it had the weight and size of a mastiff, and that could mean only one thing: shifter. Alternatively, some referred to them as werewolves, or were-something-or-other, but only if they happened to be feeling brave. I’d heard they didn’t like to be called that. Understandable. We aberrations, the supernatural, didn’t like labels that could make us look more monstrous than we already were.
I watched the shifter sniff the ground with the determination its kind was known for. What was a shifter doing here? The bear shifter pack was the closest pack, and they were two states away. That had to mean this was a loner. My muscles tensed, and my stomach tightened as the truth dawned on me. Damn, damn, and double damn! Moving painfully slow in attempt to avoid making noise, I removed three arrows from my leather quiver.
I was pretty sure that a drunk-off-his-ass redneck tromping through the woods wouldn’t make this much noise. My gut was right. The largest beast I’d ever seen emerged from the trees and stepped out into the small clearing. It stood about fifteen feet from me. The beast moved with a grace unnatural for its size as it stopped in almost the exact same spot as the buck I had been hunting only a minute ago.
The beast’s massive paws, a little bigger than my hands, moved with predatory silence as its dark nose hovered inches from the ground. It looked like a wolf, except that it had the weight and size of a mastiff, and that could mean only one thing: shifter. Alternatively, some referred to them as werewolves, or were-something-or-other, but only if they happened to be feeling brave. I’d heard they didn’t like to be called that. Understandable. We aberrations, the supernatural, didn’t like labels that could make us look more monstrous than we already were.
I watched the shifter sniff the ground with the determination its kind was known for. What was a shifter doing here? The bear shifter pack was the closest pack, and they were two states away. That had to mean this was a loner. My muscles tensed, and my stomach tightened as the truth dawned on me. Damn, damn, and double damn! Moving painfully slow in attempt to avoid making noise, I removed three arrows from my leather quiver.
