Wolf Heart: The Hunt

It was a cold winters evening.
The forest was a blanket of snow, with more falling from the sky.
A cold wind rustled the trees and pushed the snowflakes so they fell at an angle.
The serene wilderness was broken by only one sound, the sound of footsteps.

The snow crunched under her feet, giving way and letting them sink in, making it hard to run.
It wasn't easy to begin with, as she'd been going for days, even weeks without being able to stop for a good rest.
She was a young girl, only in her late teens, far too young to be out in the wild alone, but she didn't have a choice.
She was being chased, stalked, tracked and hunted.
Her hunter was relentless, unforgiving and merciless.
If she wasn't careful, she could be dead before sunrise.

After pushing through the snow she caught her foot on a stone, and was unable to stop herself from falling.
She fell to the ground and immediately clutched her hip.
Looking down she saw she had reopened the wound, as her clothes were starting to turn red.
It wasn't a very deep wound, but since she'd had no time to treat it properly, it was definitely slowing her down.
She slowly pushed herself up, breathing heavily from having run for so long.
She couldn't help it, she had to stop for a rest.
She wandered through the trees, soon finding a small cave, happy to find somewhere sheltered from the snow and wind.
She didn't go very far in so she could keep a lookout.
If the cave was a dead end she'd have nowhere to run, but this way she'd still have a chance at getting away.
She sat by the cave's entrance, huddled up in her fur cloak to try and stay warm.
Looking up at the sky she could see the sun setting over the horizon.
It was a cloudy night, but in the distance the sky was clear, and the wind was slowly blowing the clouds away.
"Four, maybe five hours? Then the real hunt begins"

The girl slowly opened her eyes, she'd fallen asleep.
She shot up, and looked around in a panic.
She cursed herself for falling asleep like that, leaving herself so vulnerable for who knows how many hours.
She soon realised there was no-one there, she was safe for now.
Then it dawned on her, she slowly turned her head and looked up into the sky.
The clouds had moved far, it wouldn't be long now before the moon would come out and the hunt would begin.
Suddenly a group of birds shot into the sky from a tree not too far from where she was.
Her hunter had caught up to her.

The few hours sleep had given her some much needed energy, so she was fine to run again, although she was more worried now.
With her stalker so close, and the moon not much further, she had to be more careful than ever.
Every step left a footprint in the snow, so hiding wasn't an option, even if she could she wouldn't, she knew her stalker was too good for that.
So she just kept running, glancing up into the sky to see where the clouds were.
She was a fast runner, so she'd managed to cover enough distance.

She came into a clearing and stopped, watching as the last of the clouds moved away from the moon, leaving it to shine over the forest.
She unclipped the buckle holding her cloak together, letting it drop to the ground.
Unbuttoning her shirt, she stared up at the moon with a look of both awe and excitement.
To anyone else it was an ordinary full moon, but to her it was a signal, a beacon, an order.
To her eyes the moon was blood red, and it commanded her to hunt.

She fell to her knees as an intense pain shot through her body.
Her bones were shifting inside her, growing and reshaping.
Her skin began to sprout hair, quickly starting to cover her entire body.
As she changed she stared up at the moon.
Despite the pain, the feeling was incredible.
Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her chest.
Nothing in her life could compare to the feeling she had now, the adrenalin, the rush, the thrill.

That's what it's all about, the hunt, nothing more, nothing less.
That's what a Werewolf is, the embodiment of the hunt.
The worlds ultimate predator, but also the worlds ultimate prey.
That's how Werewolves live, they hunt by night, but in turn are hunted by day.
Pitting oneself against their prey, seeing who was the better hunter, it really is as simple as that.
That's why she ran into the forest.
She could've just hidden in town, become lost among the crowds and disappeared.
As easy as it would've been, it would've gone against her very nature, her reason for existence.
One simple reason told her to challenge this man, he was strong.
He strode into town as a renown Werewolf hunter, responsible for the deaths of a number of her kind.
He was strong, fast, well equipped, and smart, the perfect man for the job.
He was a worthy opponent, and the girl would be proud to either hunt him, or to be hunted by him.
Respect for the hunt, in any form.
As predator or prey, a hunt was a hunt, and nothing in this world or the next could convince her otherwise.

Her howl echoed through the forest, letting her prey know she was coming for him.
The hunt was on.

The Werewolf ran through the trees, with more speed and stamina than she could've dreamed of in her human form.
The wind in her face, the snowflakes clinging to her fur, the crunch of the snow under her paws, the sights, the sounds, the smells, it made her feel so alive.
Still she had to be careful, it's easy to get lost in the bestial mentality and just attack.
She'd done it once before and that had resulted in a wound so bad it stayed on her hip when she transformed back into her human form.
It was different now though, she wasn't going to underestimate him this time.

The smell was what gave him away.
He'd been running for just as long as her, but he was wearing thick leather clothes to act as armour, as well as carrying plenty of supplies.
Although that didn't give her as much of an advantage as on other hunts, he knew she could smell him, so he was prepared for a surprise attack.
This wasn't a straight fight, this was a battle of wits, of will, of endurance, of patience.
Whoever caught the other off guard was the winner, but the first move had to be the last, or else the other would have their chance to finish it.

He stood in the snow, with his crossbow in is hands, with a silver headed bolt ready to fire.
He moved the eye-patch he was wearing over his other eye, a little trick he'd come up with.
One eye was covered and was completely used to the dark, so he didn't have to wait to adjust.
He then dropped his supply bag so he didn't have to carry it around, it didn't have any hunting supplies in so it was just useless weight.
He couldn't afford any weakness, he was already at a disadvantage.
Still, he'd killed Werewolves before, and he planned to kill them again, he still had some tricks up his sleeve.

She slowed her pace, she was getting close now and she didn't want to give herself away.
The snow meant she couldn't move as quietly as usual, but it was fine, she liked a challenge.
Soon enough her prey came into sight, so she lowered her body and began to move more slowly.
She crouched down behind a bush and waited as he came closer, constantly surveying his surroundings.
Suddenly he stopped and fired his crossbow at the bush she was hiding behind.
She moved as quickly as she could, only just avoiding the bolt.
This was when she charged him last time, not thinking he'd have more weapons ready in time for her.
If she hadn't pulled away and tried to dodge then, the silver dagger would've done much more than cut her hip, it would've gone into her chest and would've probably left her too weak to escape.
She wasn't going to make the same mistake twice, she immediately went past him and ran out of sight.

Something was wrong, he wasn't chasing her, he'd come after her last time.
She ran between two trees and found out why, she caught her foot on a tripwire and a net fell from above.
It made sense, he knew she'd be changing so he stopped chasing her and focused on preparing for the fight.
Since she was suspicious of him, she was more focused and could react to the trap more quickly.
Then it dawned on her, this was her chance, he'd think she was caught in the net, so he wouldn't be expecting her.
She circled round wide enough to avoid being seen, soon picking up his scent and then finding his footprints.

After a few moments of following the footprints she saw they swerved left ahead.
She knew what it meant, but was too late to stop in time.
The man jumped out from behind a tree and fired his crossbow.
The bolt flew at the centre of her chest, a wound that could easily be fatal.
All she could do was twist her torso, taking the bolt in her shoulder, before falling to the ground.
The man sprinted at her with his silver dagger in hand, not giving her enough time to get up, let alone get up and run.

A split second before he stabbed downward, the Werewolf rolled onto her back and lifted her legs up, using the mans momentum to pick him up and throw him over and away from herself.
She immediately got up and ran, only just getting away in time to avoid another crossbow bolt.
When she threw him, she received a slash on her left calf, so she limped as she ran.

She slowed down and stopped by a river to rest.
Silver may not do any more damage to Werewolves than other metals, but it definitely weakened them.
She was now slower, less strong, her senses weren't as sharp
All of her strengths were now lesser, making her an easier target.
She sat by the riverside, licking her wounds and trying to come up with a plan.
She was tired, injured and not sure if she'd be hunter or prey, but for the same reasons she was excited.
This was the most intense hunt she'd ever had.
Never before had she almost been killed by the same person more than once, this was the most worthy opponent she'd ever come across.

After the wounds had stopped bleeding, she drank from the river and went back into the forest to continue the hunt.
She almost fell over skidding to a stop, only inches from another tripwire.
Stepping over it, she smelled the rope to get his scent again, then headed of in the direction he went in after setting the trap.
While she was running she had an idea, one she thought was so perfect she was slightly shocked just by having thought of it.
If she could smile in this form, she'd have a grin from ear to ear.

The man had just finished setting another trap, being sure to keep an eye out all the while.
By now his other eye had adjusted to the dark, so he'd taken off the eye-patch altogether, now he could see even better than before.
As time went by the odds were leaning more and more in his favour.
He confidently but carefully walked through the woods, stopping to turn to every sound that could've been his target.
After a while he stopped altogether, he could hear loud footsteps coming his way.
He turned to face the sound, focusing and readying his aim.
As soon as his target appeared he fired, but a well timed change of direction cause the bolt to fly past and into the woods.
He quickly loaded another bolt, while being ready to grab his dagger if he couldn't finish in time.
He didn't have to though, the Werewolf ran straight past him, not getting close enough to attack.
Just before his target left his sights he fired the bolt, but it missed and his a tree, forcing him to run after the creature.
Silver was hard to come by and he'd used all of his crossbow bolts, so his dagger was now his primary weapon.

He sprinted after the werewolf, ready to strike at any moment if it tried to surprise him.
After following it round a tree he immediately realised his mistake, but had no time to stop what was coming.
The tripwire broke, was pulled round the tree and activated a trap, sending an arrow into the mans chest.
He grunted in pain, dropped his dagger and fell to the ground.
He went to inspect the wound, but didn't have enough time.
He looked up and saw the Werewolf charging straight at him.
He snapped the arrow so only the tip was still in his chest, then rolled over to grab his dagger to meet the beast head on.

The Werewolf pounced at the wounded man, just as he grabbed the handle of his dagger and twisted to stab.
The two collided, and a spray of blood splattered and stained the forests snowy blanket.
This hunt was over.

"Over here! I've found a body!"
The rest of the group walked over to the corpse, laid out flat on its back with its hands together on its abdomen.
"Here, it's a journal. Look at this"
The words last page of the journal were written differently, in bigger letters to catch attention.
'If you're reading this then you are probably a friend of the owner of this journal, come looking for them.
If so, then you should know that I am the one who killed them. I just want to tell you a few things before you come after me with thoughts of revenge. To begin with, your friend was the strongest opponent I have ever faced, you should be just as proud to have known them, as I am to have fought them. However, since they are gone now this may not matter, so I will tell you what is not only relevant, but will no doubt be very important to you'

The next words were written even bigger than before, and had been traced over a number of times to make each letter both thick and clear.
'My name is Erika Erős, I am a Werewolf. I am heading west. I am alone, injured and exhausted'

'You have one month'

The End.