Anger is one letter short of danger

-unknown

~O~

Chasing Grudges

~O~

"That was very clever going to the Great Forest, Bane! To think you didn't realize there could have been wildlings in this godforsaken lot!" Calla panted, sprinting alongside. Uphill, shadows began running on their sides with a pace that seemed effortless compared to the dawdling pair. "I was better off in the dungeons!"

"If you stayed there they would have had you killed!" He retorted as he and Calla switched paths, hoping to deflect their hunters, only to reel back from dark figures appearing out of nowhere. "You've basically a lose-lose situation, and I'm just the idiot dragged into this!"

"It was your decision to come after me!"

Bane snorted. "I hope I live to regret that."

They scurried onward, even with the slightest hope that there was one of the many paths they've taken that would lead them to a safe haven. Feeble gleams of the moon served only to let them see stark outlines of tall pines, so they had almost exactly no notion of where they were headed. Nor did they realize they were actually running into a narrow depression, a fatal trap that ended with a colossal mass of boulders, a death snare waiting for their mauled carcasses to be left rotting in the cold forest floor.

"No, no, no," Calla ran her hand over the uneven surfaces of the rocks, wishing she could fit between the cracks and slip her way out with her life. "There has got to be another way around."

Bane lifted his nose and sniffed the air. He bent his head in disappointment. Howls erupted behind, and for once, he perceived the futile attempt at escaping these animals. "Listen, Calla." His stern voice drew Calla's attention away from clawing at the rocks. "If I run back, you can still make it out and pass by them."

She frowned. "That's your plan? Martyrdom?!"

Bane shrugged, "Believe me, I'd very much like another option if you have a better one."

"I can fight them off," Calla demanded.

"I said 'better' not get us both killed."

"Come now, Bane I won't allow you to-"

"Oh spare me your condolences. If I'm getting torn apart tonight, I might as well have my dignity intact." He crouched lower, ears recognizing the fast approaching footsteps.

"Bane, don't!" Calla reached out to grab his tail, but he had already bolted towards the incoming wolves ready to enter the alcove. He snarled, clawed, and nipped at them with an impossible reflex, trying to draw their attention away from his human. It seemed to be working as the pack followed the fox away from the niche where Calla was.

Despite Bane's command, Calla ran outside to help him when unexpectedly; one wolf that strayed from its group came across her path, making her stagger and fall. Underneath the moonlight, the wolf emerged, baring its teeth and glaring at its prey with dagger eyes. Its approach was slow, studying and predicting the next movement of its prey. Calla dug her hand underneath the earth and pulled out a fallen branch.

Before the wolf could lunge, she whipped it with the branch, only puzzling for a moment and driving the wild animal livid with rage. She cursed herself under her breath and proceeded to whip the wolf with the branch as she tried to prop herself up to run away. The wolf seized the branch with its fangs and tossed it away. Calla, devoid of weapons, ran off in the other direction deciding it was better to hope her legs would not fail her than stand and become shredded meat.

She could hear the padding of the wolf's feet closing up behind her. But she wasn't planning on stopping no matter how much she hated running. The wolf already was a hell of a motivator. As they sprinted downhill, it circled in a faster pace, meeting her on the base of the hill. Calla slid and scrambled upwards, cursing sufficiently the name of her pagan gods.

Running uphill was a whole lot harder than she thought. Calla, upon miraculously reaching the summit, took it upon herself to rest against the barks of the trees in order to gasp for air. She looked back to see if the creature was behind. Nothing.

A low growl shifted her gaze. The wolf was already in front of her when she turned her head back.

Knowing it was time to finish her off, it expectantly lowered its hind legs to launch…before another figure came clashing down to keep both of them apart. Calla unglued herself from the tree and hurriedly began to climb it.

She couldn't see very well, but it was clear, the figure was a man with an impressive skill at combat, though it was also clear he was fighting with a much bigger, and hungrier enemy. He unsheathed both of his swords, making it known that he was a mastered swordsman enough to handle twin blades, only the wolf didn't know that.

The man drew closer but kept himself in a cautious distance from the wolf. It lunged forward but the man attacked its flanks in synch, slicing a cut down to its neck. The wolf fell down and rolled to its feet with a cry. It snarled viciously, frenzied with anger. It sprinted forward and clawed at legs, its sharp nails digging enough flesh as it threw him to the barrier of a tree.

The young man groaned in agony as he pressed a hand on his thigh, blood surging in between the spaces of his fingers. His tunic was now streaked in red from gashes of the wolf's nails. He took every ounce of strength there was in him, and grasped the blade that rested on his hands.

The wolf flashed its fangs and jumped towards him, and at the same instant, the man raised his sword up high to collide steel and flesh. There was the sound of whimpers and the dying howl of a fallen creature, and then silence.

The man groaned some more, as the weight of the dead wolf lay atop him. He shoved the wolf off with every remaining ounce of strength he had left, then hauled his sword from its flesh and slunk his head on the ground.

Slowly, Calla stooped down the tree, a bit reluctant to come near him. The blood trickled from his forehead, slowly dripping on his chiseled jaw. His lips were twisting in pain as his hands pressed harder on to his thigh to suppress the continuous blood flow. He scanned his surroundings, pausing a bit when he found who he was looking for.

For a moment, the young man managed to lock eyes with her, but averted his gaze when the pain on his leg consumed him. She didn't approach until he laid completely still, his haggard body succumbing to fatigue.

She stared at him long and hard, carefully defining his identity.

She found it hard to believe that the man who saved her was the same man who had brought her to the dungeons. The same man who will surrender her to Archenland. The same man prophesied to kill her father. He was still breathing. He could still live. He could still live to one day fulfill her father's foreshadowed death. She couldn't let that happen at any cost. That was why she came all the way here to murder him. This was the moment she had been preparing for.

If he died now, he won't ever be getting in her way. No one had to know.

She spotted the sword resting on his lap.

Grabbing the hilt with both hands, Calla let the tip of the blade point directly at his chest. She stopped thinking about how he saved her life to convenience her decision that the Just King had to die.

"I won't let you kill my father."

A/N: talk about psycho hah what do u think

I hope I can post longer chapters than this

It means a lot to me when you read my story so here have a cookie!

Reviews will be adored!

-DawnD