A/N: Okay! Back to Break and Binde. X3 Quite the duo, they are. And a long chapter, in recompense for my lengthy silence. ^_^ Enjoy! I had fun writing this scene, so I hope you have just as much fun reading it, those of you who are still following...
Chapter 10:
Attempts
Binde stopped Break at the edge of the woods, planting his foreleg in front of him. Break looked up to give him a sharp glare, only to find the brown wolf staring at him with bright blue eyes from under a furrowed brow.
He waited a long while for him to speak, and quickly grew uncomfortable under the steady gaze.
What did he want? It was bad enough that he'd been placed under the supervision of this lower status… He didn't want to finish that thought. But really, why wouldn't the wolf say anything?
Finally, Binde spoke, in a voice quiet, yet commanding.
"Walk in my footsteps."
A simple request, out of the blue. Break frowned, arching a confused brow, and stepped away from Binde's leg. "What?"
"Walk in my footsteps. Not beside me."
Oh, all the implications that statement held… To walk in someone's footsteps, one had to walk behind them… and let them lead.
Break wasn't about to let it go that easily. "Why?"
Binde began walking once more, and Break defiantly followed beside him, keeping watch on the other wolf's expression as he did so. "Gianaval charged me to teach you. Your first lesson: always follow the leader, right in his footsteps. Then only one set of prints is left behind."
His pride took a blow, but he slowed, and moved over to walk in Binde's footsteps. There was nothing more he could argue with.
It looked to be nearing noon – the sun climbed higher and higher still in the crisp blue of the winter sky. The two wolves maneuvered through the dense evergreen underbrush, their steps silent in the emptiness of the air. Wind combed through the forest with its freezing arctic fingers, stirring snow in its wake, and bringing the promise of a storm later in the day.
No chills raced up his spine. Hm; perhaps fur had its advantages.
Binde stopped. Break nearly ran into him from behind, and grunted as he staggered back again. "What are you-"
"Shh…" The way Binde let the word trail off uncertainly set Break on edge. "Xerxes… Do you hear anything?"
He listened. Ears swiveling, he took in all the sounds around him…
Silence.
He shook his head. "No…"
"Precisely." Binde dove behind the nearest bush, skidding to a stop half-buried in snow. "Hide!"
The idea of throwing himself into a thicket wasn't exactly appealing, but the urgency in Binde's voice urged him to do so anyway. The snow made his nose sting with cold, and he shook the white powder from his face before Binde chomped down on his ear.
"Hush, Xerxes."
As soon as they ceased their movement, the silence seemed to thicken. The birds had stilled. The wind died, and a twig snapped somewhere close by, the sound echoing across the trees.
And then, Break saw it. It moved with great care, hustling like a bear, muscles bulging with each weighty step. But its steps made no sound in the silence. Only the huff of its heavy breath broke the stillness, and smog poured from its snout with each pant. Not the frosty white of chilled breath, but a heat, distorted and warped. Its pitch coat seemed to suck away all sense of light around it.
But what struck Break hardest was its luminous crimson eyes. Pinpoints of color on a dark plain, they glowed bright even in broad daylight.
The beast sniffed at the air, and turned its head from side to side. Its lip curled, revealing ivory fangs.
He heard Binde's breath cut short, and only soon after realized that his had done the same. The great black wolf had obviously detected something amiss… but what? Had it smelled them? Break paused to feel the direction of the breeze; they were downwind…
The black one bolted, and Break swallowed any sort of reaction as he realized it was going in a different direction – to their left, several meters away. It burst through a clump of brush, shattering the dry foliage, and came out chasing a grey hare. The poor little creature lasted only a dozen yards before the monstrosity barreled onto it. Break couldn't close his ears to its frightened cries.
"Please! Please! Please, have mercy! Pl-"
With the stomach-churning crunch of bones, the beast silenced it, and the scent of fresh blood once again filled the air. Its aroma of metallic rust made Break's nose twitch and burn, and he felt he'd be sick any moment.
Then… the beast stiffened, and angled its head to the side. What is it doing? And then, with horror strengthening the illness in his gut, he realized that in the moment-long chase, the hare had led it directly behind them… From the trembling of its dark snout, it became obvious.
It detected them.
Just as its hackles raised, Break felt his companion tense beside him.
"Run!" Binde shouted, and took off in a single burst of speed. With a shove of his hindlegs, Break wasn't far behind. The wind increased around them with each long stride, and snow flew up in sparkling flurries. Winter skeletons of the underbrush quivered with their passing, and moments later, snapped into splinters with the crash of the hulking black mass in pursuit.
Break could swear he felt the monster's black breath on his back. It made his hair stand on end, and had he still been able to, he might've felt sweat trickling down his brow. His pulse pounded in his temples with every breath and the muscles along his spine grew warm from the strain of his length. His bones jarred as the pair vaulted off the edge of a small wash out.
"We have to split up," said Binde, breaths coming hard as he slowed just a moment. "Together, we're too big a target."
"And separate, he'll pick us off one by one!" Break snapped in return. "Two can overpower one easily."
Break found himself knocked off course, and he careened into the drifts. Instantly, he was back on his feet, shaking the snow from his hide.
"What the heck was that for!?"
"Not this one, Xerxes!" Binde's eyes blazed. "You must trust me; we have to go separate ways. For now. Meet at the southern wall, by the gates."
With that, Binde raced off in one direction, and Break took a brief moment to fume. Who on earth did this wolf think he was, to order him a-
The black mass exploded over the ledge, and nearly crushed Break under its massive weight. He couldn't suppress the cry of alarm that burst from his throat as he backpedaled, then spun on his heels and began his sprint once more.
Oh, it had been years since he'd had to run like this! Years of working for Pandora, and keeping up his training, aiming to protect the members of the Rainsworth house, and many others – yet here was a danger, one more deadly than many he'd ever seen, that he'd never encountered. Its power astounded him, and a fleeting thought infiltrated his mind of someday studying these creatures, these 'Dark Ones'.
But not now. Not when his life was in danger. Not when each stride he made wasn't long enough to keep the beast from gaining on him. Its weight made the ground shudder, and he felt it through his feet.
"You think you can run." The monster's voice rumbled low and throaty, just behind him. He felt its breath on his tail. "But not for long, old one."
Old one? How… Could this thing tell anything just from his scent?
"You are tiring," it said, as Break made a hairpin turn to the right. He heard it turn after him in a wide arc; its sheer size and momentum kept it from moving as agilely as he did. "I can smell it. Give up now, and I will make your death a quick one."
Sharon lost me once… I will not let it happen again, not while I can help it!
"Perhaps another day, ol' chap!" Break vaulted over a fallen tree. The beast did the same, landing on the dry bark and tearing gouges into it as he leapt off again. "Today, I aim to live!"
Then he heard it – rushing water. The ground began to decline, and he smelled the cool scent of ice.
The river!
He picked up his pace as much as was possible. His limbs strained and ached in protest, but he couldn't stop! Not now! Not as he felt jaws snap at his tail.
Running, running, running… That action alone consumed his being. Had to run, had to run. He'd never been one to flee from danger, but from everything Gianaval and Binde had said about the Dark Ones, these were no ordinary foes! And considering he'd never faced one before? This was no time for arrogant boldness!
Something struck him in the back of the leg, and the force of the blow sent him fishtailing just as the chase pushed them out of the forest and onto the banks of the icy river. Miniature iceburgs grew larger in his sight, and his claws scrambled for some kind of hold in the snow. He skidded to a stop, and pebbles of frozen earth showered into the water. The air at his back grew warm, and he could almost feel the teeth bearing down on his back.
And then, he was a meter away, and running for his life again.
Whoa! He'd never moved that fast before! Not even in the most dire of circumstances, in any part of his past. Then again, he'd never felt the jaws of Death itself take a bite at his neck, either, so…
Somewhere, there had to be somewhere he could cross! And if he could use his advantage of smaller size and weight in the process? That would be even more ideal.
But wait! He knew this place! And from his memory, he knew there to be a waterfall – small, but just enough perhaps to help him – not far ahead. He and Sharon had taken to walking along the river banks during the springs in recent years, when the water was highest.
Perhaps fifty yards to go. He had yet to spot the edge of the water through the trees.
The beast's footsteps pounded in his ears in time with his heartbeat.
Forty yards. He heard the roar of the falls.
His foot hit something hard beneath the snow, and he stumbled. Claws brushed his flank.
Thirty yards. He caught sight of the rocks that jutted over the ledge, covered in ice from the never ending mist of the falls below. A bit of ice formed a tiny ice bridge between them, just wide enough for perhaps a cat to cross. There was no way he could walk across it; but it was his only hope, if he were to jump. If he missed…
Run, run, run Hatter! The beast drew nigh at his back, and he swore he felt those claws brushing his ankles with each extension.
He began running in a broad arc in order to keep his momentum in his jump across the river. His mouth felt dry; his breaths grew shallow. It had to end soon! He wasn't sure how much longer he could last…
Mere yards away, the boulders loomed. Beneath the snow, the terrain shifted abruptly from grass and soil to stone, and a bit of the traction he had slipped away. He couldn't move fast enough; chunks of snow fell from the edges and tumbled into the rushing water. Then he came to the edge, and pushed off with all his might.
He watched the water pass under him. He could pick out small clumps of ice floating at its surface before they were hurled off the edge into the mist below. The air was colder.
In a blink, he'd reached the other side. His feet left long trenches in the snow as he slid down the incline. But he still couldn't stop! Only when he was all the way to the treeline on the opposite side did he finally slow, and turn, for he no longer felt the shadowy precense behind him.
There stood the beast, halted at the edge of the boulder, on the other side of the river. It stared down at the water, its red eyes unreadable, before lifting its head to stare directly at him.
Break knew that there was no way it would chance a jump now. It had lost its momentum in stopping; he spotted long ruts where its halt had plowed away snow. Such a great mass needed momentum for a jump; did it consider retracing its steps to come at him again worth its while?
He shivered under its gaze. Those unnatural eyes, the color of freshly spilled blood… like that of the unfortunate hare that the beast had claimed as its prey not ten minutes ago.
A fall into those frigid waters could be fatal. Not only would one who missed the jump face the waterfall within seconds – not that this proved very dangerous; the fall was short, the pool at the bottom deep and vacant of sharp rocks – but going for a swim in the dead of winter was never the smartest idea, unless one fancied losing a limb to frostbite, or dying of hypothermia.
Long moments passed as the stare down continued, before the black one finally turned and lumbered away. Just like that. It turned its back on him, and made for the dark of the trees beyond. It didn't even look back. Break watched its hulking form disappear into the brush, and could scarcely believe it had been that simple.
He took a moment to process what had just happened. And then… Binde! The wolf had said to meet him by the southern gates… But he couldn't mean too close; not with Sharon's order still standing. Kill every wolf on sight… No, Binde had to mean nearby, but out of range from gunmen at the guardposts. Or out of sight from them, at least.
Nevertheless, he had to meet him. Or else, perhaps, Binde would think him dead…
Lucky dog. He got off easy; he wasn't the one who had to outrun a bear!