Song Of The Chapter: Bad Blood ~TaylorSwift
Chapter: 8
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PERSPECTIVE: Aizea - The girl that hears after dark
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By the time I have prepared the sandwiches - an action which required an immense amount of courage on my part, this early in the morning - it's just past seven. I am so calm this morning that I am scaring myself.
I wonder if the anticipation is taking a toll on my sanity. It must be. I sigh.
Today is going to be a storm. But, I will survive. Because, I'll have to. I have no way other than surviving. Even more so when I know that he's waiting for me - just the way he has for all these seventeen years. Deep down, I know that it's his acceptance that has not only kept me going for all this time but also instilled this fierce determination to keep going even now.
To whoever the Almighty is, I send a quick prayer that the grand escape plan that I have in mind, finally does work out.
The door to the master bedroom opens. It's Sheroa and Melinda together. Their smiles are bright but in the depths of their eyes, I see a strange gravity. A gravity that makes my heart thrum an oddly uneven rhythm.
Why do I feel like something is seriously wrong? More wrong than I already know.
I say nothing, though. It's Melinda who speaks first. Rather, gasps.
"Oh my, Aizea! You make such amazing sandwiches!", she exclaims, the smile on her face leaking into her voice. Sheroa laughs, but all I can manage is a smile.
Because suddenly my brain is working an overtime, trying to decide if it really is ready to run away from these two people that it has grown up calling parents. These two generous, warm-hearted people who have risked their everything simply for the sake of ensuring my survival. For a moment, I think that maybe they have thought about my life - just as much as I have, just as much as he has.
I immediately halt my thoughts where they are. I can't afford to go all softie now and risk my life so very largely in the absolute final day.
"Just thought that I could be of some use.", I murmur, strongly commanding my lip muscles to curl up into a smile. They do, but of course the smile doesn't reach my eyes. Still, I look up at my parents anyways.
"When do we need to be there by?", I ask the question I am dreading the most at the moment.
"By ten.", it's Rubelle who answers, as he excitedly skips out from his room. "I can't believe it's really happening!", he shrieks excitedly. "I have been waiting for Andre to become the Mayor since... Forever!"
Maybe it's just sad, but I don't feel one bit of the excitement that has Rubelle almost skipping in joy all the way to the table.
"Morning!", he greets me cheerfully as he takes his seat. "Good morning.", I greet him back with as big a fake smile as I could possibly cook up, "Chorsh?", I ask.
Honestly, I am a little concerned that he isn't right here. It makes me have weird, scary thoughts.
"Here!", Chorsh responds as Rubelle opens his mouth to answer, and then shuts it back resignedly. As soon as my eyes meet Chorsh's clear brown ones, I see the concern in their depths. He is worried for me, although a smile - very similar to mine - tries to brighten up his otherwise gloomy-looking face. I scan his pretty, boyish features for any other signs of some emotion that I can't spot on the face of any other member of this family that I have grown up calling my own.
But, everything is all smooth. Chorsh is a perfect pretender - just like me. But his eyes look way-too-eager to say something. As if there's some warning that wants to blurt out to me, against all rules of conduct.
I swiftly look away before anyone spots anything suspicious with me or my behaviour. I can't afford to let everything fall apart in these final hours.
Chorsh silently takes his seat and without as much as another word, bites into his sandwich. I don't say a single more word, either. I want every single person here to retain the image of the sheerly submissive me - there's no bigger upper hand that you can ever have over an enemy than having them thinking of you as too weak. Yes, I remember every single advice that has carelessly slipped out of his lips throughout all these years.
I sit once everyone is seated and I'm sure that I won't need to make any more sandwiches. "This is really really good", Chorsh mutters appreciatively, almost to himself. It's like he doesn't even want to talk with me. Like, he's afraid that if he does, the floodgates will open even before he can make sufficient conscious efforts to keep them closed.
Breakfast is quick with a few appreciative moans from my brothers and some additional comments of admiration from my parents. This the strange feeling doesn't leave its almost permanent spot at the base of my stomach. The anxiety is gnawing at the very apex of my heart and I am almost exploding from the power of it.
I wish he was here. Of course I do.
"This dress is nice.", Melinda compliments as I get up. "Thanks.", I reply, trying hard to sound as sincere as possible. However, I don't miss Chorsh's lingering wary gaze on my back as I make my way back into my room. I don't let my eyes meet his again, though.
I quickly get back into my room and find a cute tiara that matches the dress - with tiny ribbon-roses lining it. I have never seen roses - but I want to. He once promised me that he'll let me see them once I'm back home. And, seeing how nice this rose-designed tiara looks on me - I really want to see them even more.
It was in my dreams that he had first shown me a bunch of ethereal crimson roses, and it was the following night that he had taught me to make tiny ribbon-roses. I had made many and wrapped all those onto this tiara. No one has ever seen this and I can't even imagine how shocked everyone will be when they see this today.
What do I have to hide today? Nothing more. I only wish they would notice it later on - when I was ready to sprint.
I let my hair open, down my back. I'm not going to school - I smile to myself at the small internal joke. I take nothing more. I won't take anything more from this household and this family than I already have and than I absolutely have to.
In Zaayes, corpses are dressed in red during their final rites. The metaphor is frightening. But I stay true to my promise to myself and don't let the fear take a grip over me.
When I step out, my whole family is gathered near the door. Sheroa and Melinda immediately stope their whispered conversation -more like, instructions list - to Chorsh. They don't even look at me, as we all hurriedly set out for the coronation ceremony gathering. Good.
The weather also feels so weird today. The sky is cloudy. It's not so uncommon in Zaayes and I sourly realize that it's me, not the weather. I almost feel like the clouds are too low - trying to collapse me under their invisible weight. But I so won't. I know someone who cares so very deeply for me that it's more than enough to keep me fighting fir a few more hours. I don't even let my doubts rear their ugly heads out of the darkest and deepest corners of my mind.
The coronation is taking place in the Gathering Field only. But, it's far more gorgeously decorated than I have ever had the fortune of seeing it before. There are pansies everywhere, alongside many random flowers that I don't even know the names of. All in all, it's beautiful.
But, fortunately, this beauty doesn't stir all those softie feelings within me anymore. This is improvement.
No one gasps a single Wow. And, I don't see Evelyne. It feels even more strange.
Yet, I simply follow my parents in. The Gathering Field is set up differently. There are no chairs and the crowd stands in two sections on two sides. It's as if it's an aisle made in the middle through which I silently keep following my parents. It's quiet. Too quiet to be an all-good sign.
And just as feared, I peek back a little to see that my brothers aren't there any longer. In front of me, Sheroa and Melinda's heads are bowed in reverence. I notice that they are both dressed in cream-colored garments. Melinda's gown in elegant.
I hear the murmur of calm and sure footsteps on the dry grass break the eerie calmness and then Sheroa and Melinda bow further from their waists.
The next thing I know, each of them has each of my bare wrists in one hand each of theirs, and I am being gently pulled forward.
My eyes automatically snap up to meet the pitch black eyes that I hate so much and I wonder how Andre even has such beautiful eyes, being the son of this man. I don't have to think much harder though, as the man, with his huge build, steps aside, revealing the prettiest face that I have ever seen till date.
I can say it from her soft blue eyes and her delicately beautiful features that she is not one of these people. She is a foreigner. She is very obviously not from Zaayes, at least.
She has plump pink lips, smooth cheeks - that are heavily flushed, a button nose - that is just slightly upturned, adding to her beauty, and a complexion fairer than even my own.
And here I thought that I, by far, had the fairest complexion in Zaayes.
And she's young. Not of the age that would identify her as one of my friends' mother. She is maybe more than a decade younger than the Mayor.
But the spell of the beauty breaks when I re-focus on her eyes. The soft blue colour looks so very innocent, inspite of everything, that I can almost feel my heart melting. Still, the depth of sadness within them moves me. It's a strange kind of look. Like her sadness has been perfectly camouflaged for no one but me to understand. There is this hollowness that tells me that she has lost too many pieces of her shattered heart to count.
And yet, she looks so beautiful in the flowy blue dress that is so very similar in design to mine. Her hair, too, is left open down her back. It is golden blonde - like perfect gold even under the dimmed sun - and quite long; past her hips. There's a small collection of lavenders placed in her hair where it flows past the crook of her neck.
My head is spinning and suddenly I have this powerful urge to vomit up every last content of my stomach. She is so broken and so beautiful that I am too overwhelmed to handle all this.
This is Andre's mother. The Mayor's wife, that no one has ever seen. Now I'm realising how Andre looks so different from all the other guys in Zaayes - so much more good-looking. He's so much like me in that regard - even I look somewhat different from these people.
And to think that this broken show-piece of a woman - not even that, for this is the first time that Zaayes is seeing her achingly beautiful face - is what all these people want to turn me into... I don't even know what to think any longer.
I want to run right now. But I don't do that. I'm not that stupid. This is my life that's on the bait, and I'm not willing to take any chances with regards to something that serious. I'll have to know what all this is all about. I'll have to know who these people actually are, and who this lovely but broken woman really was. Then and only then will I make a run for it.
Never dive head-first into the water till you know every wave and ripple and current in it's depths, like the back of your hand.
I won't let all this go into vain. I won't let our patience or efforts or endurance of all these years go waste for the sake of one foolishly impulsive decision of mine.
So, I do exactly what I am expected to do. I bow.
Andre steps into the picture just then.
Fan-damn-tastic.
I can't quite put up with the sight of this traitor. He, just like everyone else, has lied to me for all these years. I can't believe that what my family has been doing for all these years was actually nothing at all. It was all part of the charade.
They must've known all along that I'm something that they're known. Very probably, I'm normal, like this lady in front of me - something that they obviously aren't.
But normal people don't see Lloyerd in their dreams. The night doesn't call normal people this way...
I don't know for sure. But for now I'll have to play along. I'll have to pretend to be the stupefied prey. Two can certainly play the game.
"Aizea...", Andre's voice is soft, but all I can hear is the way my name rolled off of Lloyerd's tongue - his voice wrapping around it like a velvety caress, with more love and care than I could comprehend.
"Andre...", I let his name roll off of my tongue too, the venom so perfectly concealed that I myself am impressed by my own acting skills.
The slightest amount of guilt vanishes from his eyes and his gaze flickers to his father. The Mayor nods and announces something that sort of declares Andre as the new Mayor. Apparently, I figure out, the rituals are done. Which means that there's something about the rituals that they don't want me to know.
But who cares about what they want, any longer? I'll get what I want. I'll snatch it. The truth and freedom.
So, I barely notice the thunder-loud clapping that breaks the uneasy silence as the Mayor puts a hefty locket onto Andre's neck. I don't even notice it's design. I am too busy formulating my next course of action.
But as Andre - the new Mayor - takes a step forward towards me and whispers, "You look beautiful.", I calculatedly whisper back, "You too."
The game has begun. I never wanted to be this deceiving girl that I am at the moment. But, looks like they have made me into this.
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Song Of The Chapter: Look What You Made Me Do ~TaylorSwift
Chapter: 9
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PERSPECTIVE: Aizea - The girl that hears after dark
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The first tear slides down Andre's mother's left cheek. Her downcast eyes - I can still say - are blankly beseeching me to not step into this trap. Oh, she has no idea...
"I'm sorry for all the role-play earlier. I had to ask you if you go hunting simply to cross-check if you're really human.", Andre says more casually than I would discuss the weather. Earlier. That's my whole damn life, idiot. I wanted to scream on his face. But, of course, I won't.
Because, I have the upper-hand of the enemy's cluelessness. I can almost see those amber eyes shine with pride. I'll actually make them shine with pride when I'm out of this hell, I promise to myself.
I keep the sweet smile plastered on my face. I won't make it that sickly sweet, yet. I'll let him build as many castles in the air as he wishes to.
"It's absolutely alright Andre. Now, I don't need to fear not being able to be with you. I thought you had no idea that I was different. And that made me so scared and wary all the time. I'm sorry for all those lies of omission earlier. I'm just so happy.", and with that, I embrace him. As my head rests on his chest, I'm pleasantly surprised by how easily the fake tears come.
Maybe, they're not that fake. Deep down, I finally notice the throbbing ache of my heart at the deception of all these people that I have loved so. For whom, my whole seventeen years of life is just the prelude of their drama. I cry for all my lost relations, and I cry because I'm just so grateful beyond words to have Lloyerd in my life. I cry for the human lady who's life has been ripped apart into shreds by the cruel claws of these beasts. And, I cry in joy at my own transformation - at how quickly the cold soothes my sobbing heart into the strong dagger that I want to stab through Andre's own beastly heart.
Maybe, I also cry for Andre. I mourn the loss of a true friend. Actually, I mourn the fact that I never really had him to lose.
I raise my head and look up at those clear blue eyes which now remind me of nothing but deceit and the consequent revenge. And, survival. My topmost priority at the moment.
Andre wipes away my tears and I want to slap his hand away.
"Hey, it's alright now.", he soothes me, as if I'm a damn kid.
I sniff a few more times before dramatically asking him with as much pain in my voice as I could muster, "How did I come here, then, Andre?"
His eyes seem to soften and he looks away to exchange a glance with probably Sheroa. Another traitor. The biggest actor out here. Then he refocuses on my face.
"Sheroa found you sixteen years back in the dark depths of the forests. Possibly, the evil people of the Land Of Wudes had abducted you from somewhere and then left you to die once they had lost interest.", Andre explains matter-of-factly. The expression on his face almost makes my jaw tick. Almost.
"Oh.", I let out an encouraging exclamation. I need to know the whole story, right?
Andre's eyes shine with what looks like the slightest bit of remorse. As if those glittering blues can ever touch my heart again!
But, sooner than I can even reconsider that prospect, pride fills his eyes. Good for me, though. The vainer he gets, the easier it is for me to hate him.
"We are the shifter-warriors, Aizea. It's this our duty to the Lord Of Shifters to make sure that the next leader is stronger than the previous one. And, this progressive generation-wise power hierarchy can be maintained only if the Mayor - the one with the strongest shifter - mates with a human. Sheroa was part of the team sent into the dark woods to check if they found a suitable candidate - it would be a generous act too. And, just look at my fortune - the Lord tied my life with yours - yours of all people!"
His voice has picked up the classical Mayor's cadence that I hate with a passion. It only makes it that much easier to act, for me.
I pretend to throw a meek and curious glance at his mother - while in reality, I can't even bear to look longer than a fraction of a moment at the broken-ness that mars her lovely features. "Where is M'lady from?", I ask, trying to make my voice sound softer than I remember it ever sounding.
Andre doesn't even look back at his mother. He simply sighs and says, "Father fetched her from the seas. She was also - ultimately - saved from the evils of the Kingdom of Wudes."
My judgement says that fetched is not the perfect word to use to describe how your sadistic father kidnapped your mother. But, guess it works anyways. I don't even expect anything better than this from these...
I mentally cringe and halt before mentioning the word.
"Oh. What am I supposed to do now, Andre?", his name feels unbelievably bitter as it rolls off of my tongue. I'm overwhelmed by the hatred that I am feeling for him. Even more, by the thought of just how much I didn't hate him even yesterday.
"I think some bonding time with Clara should help.", the former Mayor drops his expert advice where it was the most thoroughly uncalled-for, but somehow, I think, he has helped me, unknowingly.
"Sure.", Andre agrees with not-too-much enthusiasm. "Come."
The next thing I know, I am being ushered away from the crowded Gathering Field, through a passageway in the back, by Andre's hand on my elbow - that threatens to burn off my skin by the sheer ire and hatred the simple touch invokes.
But I halt. I have to. I know that my former family isn't as much of a saint as I possibly thought them to be - but I can't just leave for forever without a single backward glance.
I peek around from above my right shoulder. Sheroa, Melinda and Rubelle's faces are overflowing with joy. Fools. They even look so foolish smiling this broad. Like foolish traitors who aren't even wise enough to realise that what they've done is wrong - gravely wrong, the gravest mistake they've ever made.
But Chorsh's eyes are glinting with a sheen of unshed tears. My only ally in this lonely Zaayes. My soul-brother. In this moment I realise that there are so many questions that I want to ask him - What are they? Why do they need to mess up with the lives of perfectly good human girls? Has he ever gone hunting? What do they hunt? Why do they even need to hunt when they are completely capable of eating normal food? Does he know that I'm not human?
I can't, though. Still, I catch his stare with mine. They are brimming with care, fear and concern. I give him a very slow, reassuring blink that only he understands and he actually looks reassured.
Maybe, he does know that I'm not human either.
But the very next moment his eyes catch sight of my tiara - and he sees it, actually sees it, for the first time. He's the first one to do so, and his eyes widen in pure horror. I smile at him - a cold smile that promises carnage - and turn back around.
I let Andre lead me away from the last traces of my shredded softness and naïvety in Zaayes.
The weather hasn't gotten any better, and strangely, I like it. As I walk towards Andre's residence - conveniently close to the woods, at the border of Zaayes - I hear the wind, the lone witness to the nights that I and Lloyerd have cherished together, whisper the wordless promise of cooperation in my eager ears. My heart feels warmer, though my ears are still just as eager - almost thirsty - to hear his voice.
As I step my first foot across Andre's threshold I feel a strange burst of determination.
"I'll take you to mother's room now. You can talk with her and know whatever basics you want to know. Meanwhile, I'll sit with the council for my very first meeting as the new Mayor.", Andre grins as he finishes speaking.
New Mayor - he's obviously excited by the new title. Once upon a time, I would've considered this grin to be handsome. It would've even possibly quickened my heart rate.
I hide my grimace with a bright smile and when he pecks me lightly on my forehead - as if he has all the rights to do that - I clench my fists for two reasons. Firstly, I don't at all like what he's doing at the moment. And, secondly, I don't want him to decipher the design on my tiara just yet.
But he doesn't.
He heads away and I silently appreciate my own acting skills.
I walk upstairs where Clara had been earlier led to by the Mayor. It's really amazing that he has already left for the meeting in their library.
It's a large and lavish house and the first-floor lobby is pretty large and lavish as well. I pass on door and find no lights illuminating the room, through the glass panes. The next door is quite a distance away. This is what being the Mayor's house for generations looks like. Though, I actually expected it to look somewhat eerie or something. But the cool blue themes don't give away any such vibe.
I knock on the door, seeing the room illuminated on the other side.
Almost immediately and almost robotically, Andre's mother, Clara - I'll keep calling her this only whilst I'm here, because being Andre's mother isn't her damn identity - opens the door. I expect to see atleast some trace of anxiety on her beautiful face, but there's nothing. Absolutely nothing. It makes my throat tighten.
I step inside, as she moves aside to let me in. She doesn't even look up at me.
The room is in all peaches and beiges - calm and docile, just like the resident. I figure out that she won't even ask me to sit, so I do myself that favour by taking a seat on the edge of her bed. But, before that, I silently shut the door.
For one second her eyes flicker up at me - or maybe at my audacity, or, my apparent naïvety.
"I'm not quite the person for introductory pleasantries - not now and here and with you in this...", I pause as I search for the right word, "... situation - so, I'll just skip to the burning question.", I take a deep breath and harden my eyes. "What are they?"
She visibly flinches, as if I've slapped her, and then her head snaps up to look at me with incredulity in those otherwise unfathomable clear blue eyes. I'm sure this is something that she's done for the first time in years, and this tells me that I'm already making progress. I don't speak a word, but I beseech her with my eyes. She has to understand the urgency. She has to tell me.
She continues staring at me, as if trying to figure out what I am.
To get something very precious, you often have to give quite a lot.
I need her trust and the valuable information that she has. For that, I'll have to give her the truth.
"I'm not human.", I whisper to her, so low that even she has to read my lips to understand what I'm saying. Her eyes widen even further and she shivers.
"Please.", I mouth to her. I don't know how much time has passed as we just keep staring at each other - my eyes beseeching and hers baffled. She finally notices the roses on my tiara and her soft, bewildered gasp is heard.
"What are you?", are her first responding words. That's a good question.
"I don't know, and that's why I need your help. I swear to take you out of here - before your heart ceases beating or your warm breath dies - just please tell me."
My feet are itching to stand up and take me to her, but I stay seated at the edge of the bed.
She warily glances at the shut door before two words escapes her trembling pink lips, "Soul-savorers."
What in hell is that supposed to mean?!
I don't realize that I've thought aloud till she answers the question. "They feast upon the souls of humans to sustain their shifter spirits.", her whisper is now urgent and informative, as if she's not sure if she's going to survive this moment, so she atleast wants to pass on the information. But, that won't be the case. No way.
But I taste fear at the back of my tongue for the first time today as I ask her, "Did they...", I can't finish my question, but she understands. She nods sideways in vehement negation. I sigh in relief. I'm not sure if anything remains of a human if the soul is gone - and right now I have too much on my platter to be dealing with some kind of a walking-dead or whatever.
I see the first smile grazing her lips, as if sensing my thoughts, and it makes her look so much prettier.
"Humans do die if their soul is taken.", she informs me. But soon, all too soon, her eyes are trained on my tiara. This time she's frowning in concentration, as if trying to remember something. And then she remembers.
Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. "Where did you see these?", it's an urgent question and I answer it just as quick. "In my dreams.", I don't elucidate my answer, however.
The horror that I saw in Chorsh's eyes are now reflected in hers.
Then she speaks and I know that she is speaking nothing but the true fact, "You're a fae! A royal one?!"
A fae. I toss and turn the word in my head. Lloyerd never told me. But, it all should make sense now, I guess.
"How're you even alive?", she asks me, horrified.
"Because they think I'm just as human as you.", I reply, my voice sounding way too cool even to my own ears.
"But, how? Don't you ever feel the urge to sing?", her voice is now a slightly louder whisper, and I realize that I don't have much more time.
I stand up. "He doesn't let me.", I answer her in a super-calm, hasty and low whisper. Then I go ahead and hold her hands in mine. She is a tad shorter than me. "Look, I'll come back for you, alright? Just when they ask you about my whereabouts, either tell them that you don't know a thing, or paint me the villain - I don't care. Just, survive. I don't care how. Survive. I'll come back for you. And, soon. Till then, survive."
I hurry through the words and stress on each 'survive'. I can't believe I'm giving this mantra to a woman who's nearly Melinda's age.
My mother... I catch myself. Melinda isn't my mother.
She is too frozen to even nod. I glide to the door and quietly open it. I know that the main door is guarded. So, I quietly shut it right back.
"Where's the back door?", I ask Clara in an urgent whisper. She snaps out of the shocked trance before taking my hand. Some energy has refuelled her senses. She quietly opens the door and then leads me to straight down the corridor.
There's a door and I can assume that a staircase lies behind it. I'll manage the rest. I catch Clara's hand as she raise her hand to turn the doorknob. I shake my head at her. "Go back to your room.", I mouth sternly to her.
Hope glitters in her clear blue eyes. They truly remind me of the sea, and of freedom.
I watch her go back to her room and shut the door silently. Only then do I take a deep breath and twist the doorknob.
The door opens to a backyard that has nothing but semi-dry grass covering the whole stretch of it, till where it disappears into the darkness of the dark woods.
I realise that this is a bad idea, a little too late. There's no turning back now. But this is probably the only area where these people - whatever they are - intrude into the peaceful darkness of the forest.
I glide down the staircase and walk towards the woods. That's when I first hear the loud voices. They are hear, and they are looking for me. I smirk to myself. I won't mind a chase.
I don't know where all this confidence is coming from, but I think once you know that you're already screwed, you don't quite care any longer.
Lloyerd.
Lloyerd.
Lloyerd.
His name is a silent chant in my mind.
A re-energizing chant.
"Aizea!", Andre's outraged yell momentarily shatters my peace of mind. I am resentful. But, my anger, sorrow, disappointment, resentment, or any other emotion isn't more important than my survival at the moment.
The wind starts working it's magic. It's velocity picks up as I stride faster into the darkness of the forest. It's shrill murmurs drown down Andre's yells of my name, till I hear a ripping sound. I can no longer hold myself from turning around.
I'm in the darkness now - the familiar comforting darkness - but Andre stands in the dull light of the overcast day. Actually, his shifter stands.
It's dark brown fur is dangerously shiny and the ire brewing in the stormy depths of those blue eyes is intimidating. But, I don't care, as I said. I don't care even when I see it's eyes finally noticing my tiara. Too late.
My eyes challenge him.
I have never seen a shifter this up close - in broad daylight - and I must say that it is nothing close to casual or non-scary. Atleast when it bares it's canines in a snarl.
I see three more shifters slowly move forwards to flank him. And, I pray to the wind to help me. Again. And, it complies.
I simply turn around and run. The wind makes the forest all around a dark blur. But, I can still hear the haunting sound of paws on the moist ground.
But, all I do is run. I simply keep running and never turn around.
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