Suraya crouched down behind the bush, her heart beating wildly, the sweat glistening on her forehead. The trees seemed to be both friend and foe. True, they were helping to shield her, but they were hiding something that she feared, too.
Suraya had wandered through these woods collecting herbs and plants all her life, until a year ago, when her mother had forbidden her to enter them anymore. She usually obeyed, but today, because she was late, she had taken a short cut.
Her mother had a tendency to over-react whenever Suraya was late home. The shrieking got rather loud; you’d think Suraya was seven, not seventeen.
Suraya wanted to run, but she wasn’t sure where the noise was coming from. I really should have listened to mother, she thought. Then, I didn’t think I would ever find myself thinking that.
Suraya shook herself. She needed to concentrate.
Suraya wanted to run, but she wasn’t sure where the noise was coming from. I really should have listened to mother, she thought. Then, I didn’t think I would ever find myself thinking that.
Suraya shook herself. She needed to concentrate.
She inched forward, listening carefully for any response to her movements.
Suraya once again reached for the arrow. She placed her hands on the wooden shaft and pulled. The arrow came away in her hand and the werewolf let out another long howl.
The wood was eerily, unusually silent. People thought of the woods as quiet, scary places, but really, they were always full of the sound of birds and insects. Except for today.
Suraya moved again - nothing.
She risked getting to her feet as she reached the cover of a tree. She peered round the rough trunk, her hands clasping it tightly. Bravery took over and she moved forward, one foot at a time, leaping if her feet happened to crunch on a leaf, or snap a twig. Suraya was beginning to think that she had managed to avoid whatever creature had made the distress call, when she heard a muffled noise coming from behind the ferns in front of her.
She risked getting to her feet as she reached the cover of a tree. She peered round the rough trunk, her hands clasping it tightly. Bravery took over and she moved forward, one foot at a time, leaping if her feet happened to crunch on a leaf, or snap a twig. Suraya was beginning to think that she had managed to avoid whatever creature had made the distress call, when she heard a muffled noise coming from behind the ferns in front of her.
She froze to the spot.
But instead of running away, or remaining in cover, Suraya dropped to her hands and knees and started crawling towards the noise. Her heart, already racing, seemed to get so loud that it cut off any other sounds.
Suraya’s nose wrinkled as it was assaulted by an unrecognisable stench. She held her hands to her face. Luckily, they were fragranced by the herbs she had been picking and she breathed the scent in deeply. Then she took her hands away and parted the ferns.
As soon as she had wriggled through them, she stopped dead.
Lying prostrate before her was a werewolf. His shaggy fur was matted by mud and sweat and when she looked closer, she saw blood. For there, sticking out of his arm, was an arrow.
Suraya was about to turn around and crawl away when the fur began to turn hazy. The creature’s human features, skin and dark hair tried to form, but were instantly lost again as its wolf side re-emerged.
But instead of running away, or remaining in cover, Suraya dropped to her hands and knees and started crawling towards the noise. Her heart, already racing, seemed to get so loud that it cut off any other sounds.
Suraya’s nose wrinkled as it was assaulted by an unrecognisable stench. She held her hands to her face. Luckily, they were fragranced by the herbs she had been picking and she breathed the scent in deeply. Then she took her hands away and parted the ferns.
As soon as she had wriggled through them, she stopped dead.
Lying prostrate before her was a werewolf. His shaggy fur was matted by mud and sweat and when she looked closer, she saw blood. For there, sticking out of his arm, was an arrow.
Suraya was about to turn around and crawl away when the fur began to turn hazy. The creature’s human features, skin and dark hair tried to form, but were instantly lost again as its wolf side re-emerged.
Suraya sat up shocked as the human features again started to flicker before her. He was human only for a moment, not long enough for Suraya to discern his identity. For that, she was thankful, because she knew that if she found out who he was, she would be in danger.
She knew she should leave him there, but she couldn’t do it. She had never left so much as an injured animal without trying to help it and she wasn’t going to turn her back on what she saw as a human, even if the stories said that werewolves were monsters.
Suraya cautiously moved alongside the body of the werewolf. He was panting hard and writhing in pain. She was momentarily taken aback as the earthy brown fur changed to skin, then back again.
She knew she should leave him there, but she couldn’t do it. She had never left so much as an injured animal without trying to help it and she wasn’t going to turn her back on what she saw as a human, even if the stories said that werewolves were monsters.
Suraya cautiously moved alongside the body of the werewolf. He was panting hard and writhing in pain. She was momentarily taken aback as the earthy brown fur changed to skin, then back again.
The only wound that Suraya could see was made by the arrow. It didn’t look that bad and was only in his arm, yet it seemed to have driven him to the brink of death.
Suraya reached towards the arrow, but then hesitated. Although the stories said that werewolves were able to heal themselves, that hadn’t happened so far, so she decided she would need to clean the wound. She searched in her bag until she found a flask of water, some herbs and a bandage. She closed her bag up and rested the things she needed on top of it, within reach.
Suraya reached towards the arrow, but then hesitated. Although the stories said that werewolves were able to heal themselves, that hadn’t happened so far, so she decided she would need to clean the wound. She searched in her bag until she found a flask of water, some herbs and a bandage. She closed her bag up and rested the things she needed on top of it, within reach.
Suraya once again reached for the arrow. She placed her hands on the wooden shaft and pulled. The arrow came away in her hand and the werewolf let out another long howl.
She placed the arrow on top her bag, opened the flask and poured water over the wound. Next she applied herbs, before winding a bandage around the werewolf’s arm.
Suraya sat back on her heels. The werewolf lay still. His breathing was still fast, but it seemed to be slowing down and he was no longer shifting towards his human form.
Suraya studied the arrow. The wooden shaft had a metal head, which appeared to be coated in silver. That would explain how the werewolf had been injured.
It was common knowledge from the elders’ stories that silver killed a werewolf, but it seemed that whoever made this arrow didn’t have enough silver to make a complete arrowhead. so they had coated an ordinary one. The end result had badly injured the werewolf, causing him to shift constantly between forms and rendering him unable to heal himself, but it hadn’t been powerful enough to kill him.
Suraya stiffened as the werewolf opened his eyes. He caught sight of her and opened his jaws, a low growl rumbling out of him. She held her hands up and then wished she hadn’t been so stupid; they were streaked with his blood.
He sniffed at her hands, baring his teeth, then his eyes focused on the bag with the arrow and flask of water sitting on top of it. He flexed his arm, his eyes first focusing on the bandage, then returning to her face.
Suraya was holding her breath. The werewolf got to his feet and moved behind her. His paws hit her in the back and she found herself held face down in the ferns. He growled menacingly. Suraya was shaking, the fright threatening to send her into blissful darkness as the dizziness that preceded a faint began to overtake her.
She was brought back from the edge by a popping sound close behind her and the release of pressure from her back.
“Get up,” a hoarse voice instructed her.
Suraya rose unsteadily to her feet.
“Thank you for saving me.”
The unexpected words shocked Suraya and without thinking she looked at him. The werewolf was covered in a cloak, its hood concealing his face. Suraya told herself she should be grateful that she still didn't know his identity.
“Keep quiet. You’re coming with me.”
The werewolf led the way, suddenly taking her hand to pull her along faster. Suraya found that instead of feeling frightened, the feel of his fingers curled around hers made her feel safe. She didn’t know where he was taking her, but she realised that wherever it was, she no longer felt scared.
Maybe she should have been.
Suraya sat back on her heels. The werewolf lay still. His breathing was still fast, but it seemed to be slowing down and he was no longer shifting towards his human form.
Suraya studied the arrow. The wooden shaft had a metal head, which appeared to be coated in silver. That would explain how the werewolf had been injured.
It was common knowledge from the elders’ stories that silver killed a werewolf, but it seemed that whoever made this arrow didn’t have enough silver to make a complete arrowhead. so they had coated an ordinary one. The end result had badly injured the werewolf, causing him to shift constantly between forms and rendering him unable to heal himself, but it hadn’t been powerful enough to kill him.
Suraya stiffened as the werewolf opened his eyes. He caught sight of her and opened his jaws, a low growl rumbling out of him. She held her hands up and then wished she hadn’t been so stupid; they were streaked with his blood.
He sniffed at her hands, baring his teeth, then his eyes focused on the bag with the arrow and flask of water sitting on top of it. He flexed his arm, his eyes first focusing on the bandage, then returning to her face.
Suraya was holding her breath. The werewolf got to his feet and moved behind her. His paws hit her in the back and she found herself held face down in the ferns. He growled menacingly. Suraya was shaking, the fright threatening to send her into blissful darkness as the dizziness that preceded a faint began to overtake her.
She was brought back from the edge by a popping sound close behind her and the release of pressure from her back.
“Get up,” a hoarse voice instructed her.
Suraya rose unsteadily to her feet.
“Thank you for saving me.”
The unexpected words shocked Suraya and without thinking she looked at him. The werewolf was covered in a cloak, its hood concealing his face. Suraya told herself she should be grateful that she still didn't know his identity.
“Keep quiet. You’re coming with me.”
The werewolf led the way, suddenly taking her hand to pull her along faster. Suraya found that instead of feeling frightened, the feel of his fingers curled around hers made her feel safe. She didn’t know where he was taking her, but she realised that wherever it was, she no longer felt scared.
Maybe she should have been.
*****
Marie Godley lives in Christchurch, Dorset with her family. When not writing, she can usually be found walking along the beach, or in the New Forest.
Her book Time Slide, published in 2010, is a time-travelling adventure for 6+. Her next book, for 12+, is due out in 2011.
No comments:
Post a Comment