08/07/2015 I have decided to go back and edit this all before I continue with this story, because it was annoying the living daylights out of me. Much of the story will remain the same, with extra details added and spelling mistakes fixed. I'm afraid my grammar will always be a bit iffy but I would be happy to fox any pointed out.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character and her story line.
Hope you enjoy.
The pale moonlight shone through the ancient trees, casting shadows onto the frosty ground. Winter was beginning to show itself to the world, pushing the hazy sunlight of Autumn away in favour of harsh light and chilly winds. The bitter scent of gunshot smoke still lingered in the air. You could almost hear the fierce battle that must have taken place in this relatively small clearing. The once rough bark on the trees were now slick with blood, slowly thickening in the cold.
But there were no bodies to be found. From the visible splatters of blood it was clear that a quite a lot of people died or were injured, but all that remained was ash and cart tracks, mud and blood forming puddles in the uprooted earth.
Suddenly a shape moved through the trees and into the clearing.
It was a young girl about fifteen, with pale skin, grey eyes and wild, curly, black hair that moved in the slight but cool wind. She would have been quite pretty, if it were not for the claw mark that marred her young face. Fresh blood dripped down from the ugly wound onto the frosty, forest floor. She rubbed her neck, though it was in vain, for her sleeve was already dampened with blood. All she succeeded in doing was smudging it further into her skin. She paid the wound itself no heed- it would heal quickly enough. She would just have to deal with it for the time being.
How could have she been so reckless? Kicking at the ground, she caused fallen sticks and twigs to snap and rotting leaves to rustle, shattering the eerie silence that surrounded the clearing. The girl flinched ever so slightly at the noise. All that she had been focused on was finding the men and joining the fight. Sure, she would have been whipped for it, but the thrill of the fight was more than worth the angry red scars that would join the rest on her back. But this was much worse than a few lashes.
It was her own fault. She could hear the gunshots coming from the clearing, so she sped up to make sure she could fell a few of the hideous beasts before they fled. In her haste, she did not notice the stray balverine that was following her until it was too late. She turned around just as it swiped it's massive claws. She killed it of course, but the damage was already done. Now she was one of them- a balverine.
No, she wasn't one of them, she was still too human for that. They wouldn't accept her. Nor would she accept them. Not yet at least.
Of course she could never go back to her village. The guards would shoot her on sight. No, the forest, with its twisting roots and grabbing branches was her new home. Her mother would think that she ran away, and would cry over her spot on the floor. Her father would be glad that her didn't have another mouth to feed in the harsh winter months, but he would miss her in his own detached way.
She quickly pushed those thoughts out of her head. It would not do to make herself sick for a home that she despised. At least she didn't have to worry about getting lashed again. Nobody would look for her, it was just too dangerous in the forest. After a few months, she would be completely feral and then the balverines would come. They would try to recruit her into their pack. She just hoped that she would still be sane enough to refuse. As she sat thinking in the bloodied clearing, she heard it.
Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled, long and sorrowful.
There we go, the revised version of the first chapter. If you would comment, it would honestly make my day.
Love,
Niamhy
xx
