Posted 17 December 2011 - 05:14 AM
She was hunting, her feet were perfectly silent against the leafy ground. Sunlight filtered down in patches; the tree cover shaded most of this part of the woods. An owl screeched somewhere off in the distance, and she looked up to the canopy to try and locate the source of the sound. Suddenly, she felt the presence of another, and looked ahead to see her mother. Her back was turned and she walked away without making a sound, forcing Twill to hurry to catch up. The woods were becoming darker as they went on, and she considered calling out to her mother to stop her. She never got the chance; her mothers back disappeared into the foliage without a sound.
“Wait!” she called, ditching all effort to tread silently to sprint to the spot her mother had just been. Bushes appeared before her and she flung herself through them. She was in an opening in the woods. Cautiously she walked into the clearing, searching desperately for the figure she would recognize. Where had she gone? Why had she left without a word?
A thick stench hit her nose, and she recoiled. Stumbling back, her feet crunched noisily against the ground and she nearly tripped. Hand flying to her face, she covered her nose and looked around, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.
She froze in fear, her eyes falling upon the bodies strewn about the grass. Crimson stained green, tattered clothing littered the ground, bodies lay oozing with no one to claim them.
Horrified, fighting the urge to vomit or black out or shoot helplessly at the dead remains, she looked towards the tree-line hoping, praying, someone would be there.
“Mother!” she screamed. She had been right there. She would come, find her, wrap her up in her arms like she did when she was small.
Laughter rose up from the corpses, a cackling chorus that engulfed her hearing and left her feeling only despair.
She clamped her hands over her ears and screamed, “Stop! Stop it!”
Something solid clamped itself around her leg, and she looked down. A skeleton arm draped with a familiar jacket, up to a bloodied face, into a frightened, hopeless pair of green eyes.
“Don’t forget me,” he said.
The tears streamed down her face, choking her, blinding her, and then she screamed and screamed and…
She bolted up, inhaling as if she hadn’t breathed for hours. Her throat felt raw, and she faintly wondered if she had actually screamed or if she was just thirsty. There was a stinging feeling at her fingers, and she looked to see Noctua sitting by her hand.
“You wouldn’t wake,” he told her, and she saw her pointer finger looked red and raw. He must have bit it to try and rouse her.