Knut
149 Words
Knut
Broken branches swayed in the wake of the woman. The warriors all spoke at once. Who was that? A woman! Was that what you scented? A few wanted to Change into wolves, whining with eagerness to run and hunt.
“Hold,” I shouted. “The enemy lies ahead.”
The pack strained at my command, but as the most dominant wolf, I held them with my power.
My own beast roared to life, fighting for control. The woman had been barefoot, frightened, wearing no more than a thin white garment—a simple shift that she might wear to sleep. She should not be out in the wilderness, anywhere near the disgusting draugr. She needed help.
She needed me.
“She smells of strawberries,” Leif said in awe. Of all the wolves, he was almost strong enough to break my commands. In a daze, he made to move forward and I whirled with a growl.
“No. This prey is mine.”
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