The Lost Link
By Michelle Bryan
The growling of the morquals behind us was loud, even louder than my mother’s frantic gasps and the crunch of the hard snow underneath our pounding feet. The growling was everywhere—in the trees, in the air, in the star filled sky. It surrounded us, covering our skin with its clammy threat of death.
The terror consumed me. If it weren’t for Mom dragging me along, grip tight on my wrist, I would have dropped to my knees and curled into a quivering ball of fear. But I willed my legs to keep moving, even as each step became harder to take. The frigid winter wind cut through my dress like a knife, and each breath scorched my lungs with fire. Still, we kept running. The thought of what they would do to us if they caught us was more than enough incentive.
Behi
