The Pack Girl's Retribution

I remembered running.

I remembered being covered in blood. Blood which wasn't mine. It didn't smell like me.

Sticky dried blood which now matted my hair over my face. My clothes were thick with it making them nearly solid in the chilly morning air. I was cold and I'd been running nearly the whole first day.

Trying to get away from those chasing me. I could remember that much.

But that first evening, I'd tripped over a rock and hit my head so hard against a tree trunk that I'd felt my chin tuck into my neck.

I didn't wake until the following morning and that was to find the top of my forehead now bleeding down my face. I dragged my wrist over my eyes trying to keep the fluid out of them so I could see.

I couldn't remember what I was running from anymore but the fear that'd driven me was alive and well.

I was deep in the heart of War Territory. And I was certain something was still chasing me. It'd been days and I was so hungry my stomach was cramping and felt as though it intended to eat itself. But I was driven to frantically look behind me, terrified.

My confusion was only worsened by something moving through the trees so fast I couldn't tell what it was. It stopped in-front of me, hesitating only a moment and I realized it was a man.

I think. He was covered in mud and ash.

To disguise his scent, likely. That was easy to deduct. And his eyes were vibrant blue staring at me.

But I knew instinctively looking at him that men were what I'd feared running into.

The scream tore out of me even as he dropped something heavy around my shoulder.

I nearly flung it off as I stumbled back. Rearing from his touch. Realizing it was a cloak I stared at it over my shoulder in shock.

When I looked up, he was gone. Scared off by me screaming my head off, no doubt.

So, he's not the one chasing me.

Who's chasing me and who was that? I felt ashamed knowing someone had tried to be kind to me, but I was so high strung and disgustingly matted with blood I probably scared him with my hysterics more than he'd scared me.

I saw another flash through the trees and realized he was still out there. Running faster than anyone I'd ever seen.

Or at least could currently recall.

I woke the next morning from sleeping up in a tree. Woke before the sun had risen by the tantalizing smell of a dead squirrel.

Food. I scrambled down the tree. Scratching my leg in the process, but too hungry to care.

I picked up the squirrel and sunk my teeth into it desperately.

The wolf inside me was ravenous but I was too weak from shock and my injuries and hunger to change.

It might kill me if I tried. I knew.

And what good would it do? I'd never been able to hunt. Though my sense of smell was good. I was not amazingly fast and had no skill in running animals down. I didn't understand how or why they veered the directions they did. I found them utterly unpredictable and impossible to catch.

And I sensed that whatever I was before…I'd never had to hunt.

Food was always brought to me.

***

Something nearby shot through the trees, and I realized it was probably that same muddy man that had given me the cloak. Cloth which had warmed me last night.

He must've left me the food too.

Thank God I had an ally out here.

But now the question was, what did he want in return?

Wolves give nothing for free. I remembered that bit also.

"Who are you?" I called to where I'd last seen movement.

But something shot through the trees a bit away in a different direction.

I backed up uneasily. There were more.

I knew of only one that was kind. Who was the other?

A flash of movement to my left caught my eye and I yelped. They're everywhere.

Feeling chased again I ran. But something cutting across my path made me turn left and run straight that way. Hearing their feet crushing sticks and kicking rocks behind me.

They're on my heels.

I ran faster. Which wasn't saying much. Breathing raggedly, I ran as hard as I could until coming to a wall. Stopping I stared up at the huge stone and mortar construction.

Seeing only one door carved in it I edged that way but found it too ominous to knock on.

Turning around I stared into the shadows of the afternoon but saw no movement now, heard nothing.

Had I actually lost them? My heart was pounding in my ears so loud I wasn't sure I could've heard someone anyway.

At some point I'd dozed off as evening descended. Sleeping against a tree weekly. Facing away from the wall to watch for intruders. Trying to be quiet.

One squirrel had been kind but wasn't enough. My stomach was growling from the hunger. Feeling like it was gnawing away at my backbone in desperation.

"Jaecar!" I heard a man shout from a distance away.

"Jaecar!" Another voice from another direction.

"Let her in!" This voice was far too my right.

How many were there? Let me in where?

Was this help or more torment?

The door groaned open and a tall man with black hair and a black goatee stepped through the door to meet me.

"Who are you?"

"Vanna…Rae…" I said slowly. Mechanically recalling my name.

"Well, Vanna Rae, you look like warmed over hell."

I assumed this was Jaecar since he was indeed, ‘letting me in.'

"You need to get washed up down in the creek." He pointed through the trees where I could faintly hear the