Hunter of Hope
Wild One
The air inflamed my lungs, my body aching as I force my legs to carry me forward. I'm not even running yet the twigged ground beneath me is already make me feel dizzy. This is my first proper outing since I began living on my own, it's only taken me two weeks. It feels like two years, I have been out but only to gather supplies and even then that was within two yards of the house. Today I decided to go out further, mainly to scope the place out, and slightly hoping for better game my recent meals have been a little below par. I haven't seen anyone so far either, this place has been too quiet.
Since the last full moon things have quietened down, no growls past windows, no blood spattered trees. The only violence I have witness has been inside my own head. I cannot be blamed, it was not my fault I was abandoned. I expect it won't last long, once the new breeds make their way over this side of the river the violence and the packs will be back, they always are.
The barks of the trees become darker, this means I am pretty far in. My walk turns into a sprint, and I am searched the grounds for wild meat. Instead of pain it feels lustrous stretching my legs and allowing myself the freedom of the forest. It feels refreshing being out in the wild again, after everything I didn't think I would've made it. The last wild one, Hope Dacia, who knew I'd be the only one left?
Hours later I allow myself to sit near a stream, take in the rocks and tiny fish avoiding them. The water lamely gushing down the narrow road. Looking around the trees were much darker, and the leaves above were down looking like shadows. It was light and now suddenly it's like darkness has taken it in a flash.
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