"If the cold doesn't kill you, the wolves will."
NOT A WEREWOLF STORY
Book 1 of 2.
In which an 18-year-old girl flees to Alaska to escape being accused of murder & to uncover what happened to her uncle. Involves two gentle giants.
Completed. :)
Fea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter 33 | THE PURSUIT
I almost stop walking altogether, but he notices before I can and quickly grabs my arm, gently tugging me to keep me moving. "Don't stop walking."
I look up at him, all that relief I felt a minute ago vanishing. "They're close, aren't they?"
He keeps his eyes trained forward. "Yes."
And with that one word, dread and panic fill me completely.
Crap, holy crap. "How do you know?" I ask.
I look to the sides but don't see anything. And, currently, we're about twenty yards away from the tree, if I had to guess.
Knowing I'll be climbing, I stuff the hatchet in the back of my snow pants pocket. Speaking of which, why did I have to wear snow pants? They slow me down way too much.
"Look behind you, but don't stop walking."
Scared at what I'll see, I glance behind me.
"I don't see anything."
"Look closer."
Immediately my eyes widen.
There, in the distance, I see multiple wolves weaving in and out between the trees.
They're keeping their distance for the time being, but they're clearly following us.
Even from here, they look big.
I glance forward again, making sure the path ahead of me is clear. Then, I look back again. Vaughn keeps a hand on my arm to ensure I don't stop walking.
A couple of the ones currently visible to me are mainly black. But, most are what I remember to be called agouti, which is a tawny-like brown mixed with black, white, gray, and an almost goldlike color.
I look back forward again, hoping they don't decide to attack before we get to the tree, which we're not too far away from now.
Well, I've never been hunted and followed by wolves before. This is definitely a very terrifying experience.
Vaughn looks behind us, "Mikaere."
"Yeah?" I ask, looking behind us, too.
Right away, the fear level within me rises even further.
Apparently, there was no howl, no movement, to signify the beginning of the hunt. No, evidently, we were clearly marked as prey the moment we were first spotted.
Right as I looked back, they all took off at once, as if in full coordination and understanding with one another.
The wolves are determined, running swiftly in our direction. They're silent predators rapidly pushing forward, remaining steady.
