A/N: Ugh, I am so sorry for vanishing for such a lengthy time. Well, I'm not dead. Thank god for spring break. Anyway, feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Here's the next chapter! And happy readings, everyone.


Entwined Arrows
~Chapter Two~
Someone Call The Mental Hospital


My legs suddenly collapse beneath me, sending my beyond exhausted body tumbling to the ground. And just as sudden, my surroundings rush back into focus. Gasping and panting repeatedly, I struggle to a sitting position with the little amount of energy I have left. My head falls tiredly against a tree trunk, my heart still hammering painfully against my chest. My lungs greedily take in deep, painful gulps of air, burning my throat— a reminder that I need water. With an agonized gasp, I fall face first into a pile of leaves, trying to ignore the aching in my sore legs, feet, and arms.

Rest. All I need is to rest, but the reality of the situation has finally caught up with me. As I glance around, I realize I'm unaware of my whereabouts, meaning I'm not sure how far away I am from the beach and civilization. Earlier, I had been running with recklessness and wild abandonment that my sense of direction and awareness had taken a back seat in my mind. In other words, it had felt as if I had been disconnected from my body and had allowed my more primal instincts to take over. The profound need to escape reality had overruled my more rational, pragmatic side, and that though alone scares me.

Forcibly shoving aside my fear of being lost, I shakily struggle to my feet, gasping from the effort it takes to do so. Ignoring the need to rest, I attempt to survey my surroundings with a critical, calculating look. An array of massive trees loom intimidating over me, blocking out most of the morning sunlight, except for the odd, filtered half-light. Feeling like a prisoner trapped inside a cage of brilliant green foliage, I try to search for the path I know must be near, however; it eludes me in a taunting, infuriating manor as it sinks back into the primeval depths of the forest floor.

I shiver, stubbornly refusing to admit that I am hopelessly lost. With anxiety growing within my belly, I picked a random direction and start marching onward with false bravado. Eyes scan every nook and cranny of the forest, looking for some distinction to the trees around me, some sign that I am heading the correct way. Too caught up in finding my way of this God forsaken labyrinth, I barely notice the unexpected heavy stillness that lays on the trees. I stop, holding my breath when not even a rustle of leaves or the call of a bird breaks the silence. The eerie silence causes the hairs on the back of my neck to rise at once and my bare legs to break out with goose bumps. An involuntary shiver runs down my spine when the feeling of being watched registers itself in my brain. I whirl around, back rigid and alert, but there's nothing behind me. Teeth on edge, I swiftly scan the area, but nothing but more green stands out.

Too tense and uncomfortable to remain within the claustrophobic grasps of the forest much longer, I try to break into a slow jog, wincing when my legs and lungs begin to protest. Thanks the adrenaline now coursing through my blood stream, I'm able to shove away my exhaustion to the back corner of my brain, focusing solely on the dilemma of getting out the forest quickly. Five minutes later, I find my frustration and despair increasing with every step. Still, the sensation of being watch fails to leave. However, it's the only thing that's keeping me going and it's also the only thing keeping me from dwelling over my previous unpleasant encounter with Karen. With a groan, I lean heavily against the trunk of a Pine.

Ugh, this is getting me nowhere! I need to stop being paranoid, and focus on the task at hand. Okay, what do I know about Assateague Forest...? That the forest isn't that dense for starters nor is it this big... That I should have come across a marsh by now... That there should tourists roaming through the forest right now... That it shouldn't be this quiet when red foxes, white-tailed deer, and frogs inhabit this very forest! What if I try yelling for help? Yeah, that's what I'll do!

Cupping my hands around my mouth to project my voice, I yell out, "Can anyone hear me? Help! I'm lost! Help!" I hold my breath and listen closely. After a minute or two, I realize that my yelling had been futile. An unexpected howl pierces the silence followed closely by several others.

Wolves?! Wolves in Assateague Forest? N-no, th-that can't be! It's impossible, unnatural, unlucky, not right, abnormal, among other things! Why?
Another howl sounds, but closer this time. A blood-curling scream rips its way from my throat as I break into a full-blown sprint. Tree branches snap against my arms and legs and my hair flies wildly behind me as I pump my arms faster. My fear of being eaten and my spiked adrenaline encourage me to speed up. I faintly begin to notice that the trees are thinning out before rain all of a sudden beats down on me and the ground becomes rocky and slippery. The sudden change of weather briefly confuses me. Terror-filled eyes thankfully spot the cliff up ahead and I screech to a jerky-haul.

Growls and barks compel me to a swivel around in time to see a black wolf flanked by several other wolves. Shaking violent, I take a step back as the black one takes a step forward, the others yapping among each other.

"Stay back, y-you," I yell fiercely, voice quavering slightly in the end. It takes another step and I back up again in response. "I'm warning you!" I hold up my fists shakily, and assume a fighting stance.

"Girl, you don't want to do that," a deep male voice cautions.

"Wh-who's there," I shout, looking rapidly for the owner of that voice.

"I'm standing right in front of you," the voice says. I gasp when I realize the words are coming directly from the black wolf! Either I have gone utterly insane or I passed out somewhere in the forest and I'm dreaming. Hopefully it's the latter. Please, let it be the latter!

"Y-you t-talked! That's not possible," I splutter, reeling with shock. "Wolves can't— shouldn't— talk!"

Taking advantage of my almost catatonic state, he cautiously proceeds forward by lowering his body to the ground in order to look less intimidating. A blanket of doubt is enveloping me, but I fight it long enough to notice that the black wolf is too close for my comfort.

I take yet another step backwards. "St-stay back now!"

"By the mane, Girl, step away from there. I'm not going to hurt you," he says in a soothing voice.

Despite his efforts to pacify me, I find myself growing more frantic and shell-shocked by the second. I'm unable to process, to comprehend what's going on. With a shuddering gasp, I back away further only to suddenly teeter precariously over the edge. My eyes zero in on the hundred feet drop into the crashing waves.

"No," he shouts, closing the gap between us, with a mighty leap, to save me from plummeting to my death. Unfortunately, his simultaneous movement entices an involuntary wince from me, and my feet slip. A shriek vibrates within me, as the ocean's waves get closer and closer. With a loud, stinging slap, I hit the ocean's freezing waters.

Cold wraps itself tightly around my body as a boa constructor does to its prey; a grip so icy, it burns. Sheer panic pierces my stomach and my heart bangs rapidly against my ribcage. My eyes sting painfully as I try to distinguish where the surface is. Charcoal darkness surrounds me from every direction.

I suddenly feel something grip my hand, giving it a tug. I squint into the blurry darkness just barely making out the silhouette of someone. Another persistent yank from my savior persuades me to kick for the surface with all my might. As I shoot up, the rain batters my face and a fierce wind blows my wet hair into my face. Thunder rumbles angrily in the distance, as I greedily breathe in fresh air.

"Are you alright, milady," a British male voice inquires urgently. My head whips in the direction of the voice to see a boy around my age with wet blonde hair falling into his ocean blue eyes.

"Wh-who are you," I ask apprehensively, subtly distancing myself from him.

"Peter. Peter Pevensie," he replays softly, offering me a gentle, assuring smile.

"Annelise Atwood," I respond back hoarsely, attempting feebly to smile back.

"Come, let's swim back to land before the storm worsens," he says, the reassuring smile still in place.

I hesitate tersely, multiple questions bubbling at the tip of my tongue, but the closer rumble of thunder encourages me to swim weakly after him. Remembering the wolves, I glance up to see them leaning anxiously over the edge of the cliff. I shiver, swimming away from them and after Peter.

Unfortunately, the rain suddenly comes pouring down more violently and the wind howls and moves the ocean's waters, creating huge waves. I'm tossed between endless volleys of waves that strike me from every direction, losing sight of Peter immediately. Before I know what's happening, I find myself under water once more. Darkness surrounds me again, and I can't help but panic and scream silently.

I'm unable to move as the current yanks and pushes me roughly. It seems that my eight years of swimming are proving to be useless. As I go into full hysteria mode, I can't stop myself from thinking with defeat that I am going to die. My air supply is dwindling fast and my arms and legs refuse to cooperate due to numbness and exhaustion from earlier's running. My lungs ache, begging for much needed air. My body can't handle all this stress in one day; it's finally catching up to me.

This can't be happening! I'm drowning! I—I need air, now, I scream silently.

As I waited for my impending, inevitable death, I briefly wonder if I will see my life flashed before my eyes. Thankfully, what the movies portray on T.V. does not apply to me. I'm sure it has to do with the fact that I'm simple too terrified.

The current wins and shoves me against something hard, a huge rock invisible in the murky ocean. The impact knocks my breath away; the last of my precious air supply leaves me. Thousands of bubbles explode into the black water just as mouthfuls of acrid water slosh down my throat, leaving behind an unpleasant sting of discomfort. Above, the white rays of the moon scatter across the ocean's now calm surface and the roar of a lion sounds, before my eyes close in defeat.