Chapter Three

Snow pelts from the sky rather harshly as the world darkens into black. Pitter pattering feet from the animals can be heard well throughout the quiet night. The moons sit on either side of each other as the universe, that is as clear as glass in the night sky, move with the flow of the planet. Gentle wind brush the snowy landscape as tall trees groan with a soft low harmony.

You don't know when you became so poetic, looking up at the sky. You found yourself lying on your fur coat, thinking that it's way better than snow as you don't want to freeze to death.

It's been a few days since you ran away on that day. You haven't found any sign that the hunters have been tracking you, though at this point, you'd rather have at least some confrontation than staring at the sky alone.

You remember Müdr being not too interested about star gazing but she encouraged you to explore the sky as much as you can. Sometimes the snow would melt away and day would last for moons on end. She wanted you to enjoy it while it lasted. You're not sure if you'll be able to have that same pleasure without her around.

You sit up to the sound of small feet sloshing through the snow. Your stomach begins to growl at the thought of what might be running this late at night. You've never known yourself to be so hungry, especially these past few days. You've always ate at least a little less than what is considered as "normal".

'Maybe,' you think, excitement slowly pouring from the mere concept, 'this is a sign of going into the next stage of my life.'

But how would you really know?

You've never met anyone who would know because of the fear the people had for your kind. You've heard stories of people trying to wipe them out without a trace of information about them. They just knew that they meant death.

To you, you're not sure if that's the case anymore. Maybe some did kill for pleasure but maybe there were also ones that were kind and sweet just like Müdr saw you as.

You know Müdr did her research though, or whatever she could find on the subject. Asking Screë would get her nowhere, only suspicion and hostility, and knowing Screë, they didn't really like her anyway.

The few Foss in the city were too afraid to say anything and those who were willing knew very little. It seemed like all everyone knows is that they are dangerous creatures, and keeping one, training it to be non blood thirsty is a useless tactic. The High Aspects didn't really give out information as well. You would think they would know something about the creatures made from Tar but they only know as much as the Screë.

These hunger changes could mean anything. But you do know that this hasn't happened before, never. Müdr would always told you how much you ate less than her.

Stress is out of the question. Hatred and anger as well. You've known those feelings most of your life. They wouldn't make you feel so hungry. Like your stomach is a bottomless pit.

This must be a sign of change.

The pattering feet grows louder and you quickly lift your head to look toward the sound. Darkness overlays your vision with the only indicator of light being the moons.

"I don't mean to startle you! I'm friendly, see?"

You squint your eyes and see a tall, dark figure walking towards your direction ahead of you. It's lanky and despite your superior sight, you can't manage to see the features of its face. It's so devoid that it makes you strain.

"Who are you?" You growl but it only comes out as a weak croak. 

"A friend," the stranger replies calmly.

"I have no friends," you retort. 

Taking in a breath you can tell the figure is male. By the stature, you assume it's another skreë. The people you can't trust. The ones that sought you out and killed your müdr.

You get on all fours and arch your back. The man takes a step back, his hands held up defensively. You hiss and prepare your legs to run. Taking a step towards him, you watch as his shoulders tense and slight fear leaks into the air.

"Listen, seed. I'm no danger to you. I just want to help." He crouches to your level, his fear scent heightening. If you could look in his eyes, you imagine them gleaming with unease. "I don't know what happened to you, but I can tell you're lost. I have a place close by. A safe haven. I can take you there. You can get fed and washed. You'll be okay."

You want to calm down at the man's words, but past events drive heated knives into your gut. Skreë are never trustworthy. They hate you. They always never trusted you and harmed you, so why would you put your faith in them now? The only person that truly earned your trust was Müdr and she's…

You can't bring yourself to think about that right now. It won't help you to linger on loss. That's what she told you. If anything were to happen to her, live. That is what you will do. You will live for her, and trusting a random person, especially a skreë, is the opposite of just that.

"Go back where you came!" You shout. "I can take care of myself! I don't need a 'skreë' to save me."

The man flinches but nods. "That's fine." He voices these words solemnly. The pain in his expression is clear as ice, yet you do not fall for this act. You can't. "I'll take my leave. If you change your mind, I am not far."

You snort a reply and watch as the man turns to leave. That was easy. You stay rigid, tense still, even when the man disappears from your sight and the smell of old fear fades. You don't risk staying longer in this place. He said his place was close. That means danger lurks just yards away.

You begin to take your leave, snatching your coat and rolling onto your shoulders. You walk the opposite way the man came from. It's chilly and beads of dried tears crust against your tired lids, but you persist regardless. You do so until you reach a clearing. 

You consider the barren snow drifts, but only for a moment. 

It's too open. You're sure the skreë or the hunters could find you here if you set up. You take a turn away, deeper into the wooded, dark blanket. Your legs ache from the long ordeal after hours of walking but you push. You push until your muscles give out from the endeavor and your awareness fades.

****

"Found him!" 

A familiar voice pierces your dreamless slumber. Your eyes jolt open but it's too late. A heavy weight crashes itself on top of you, long hair tickling your neck and back. The smell of this person is familiar. It's the scent of the female that killed your müdr. You can even smell her old blood in the air. It makes you rigid with anger.

"Rah!" You fight against her but your tail is still a stub. Your strength is immediately null because it lacks the hormones that come with it. The struggling and squirming underneath the woman is in vain. You still try to fight though, despite your muscles groaning in protest against a valiant effort to escape.

"It's weak," hums a familiar male voice behind you. "Check its tail. See if it's still there."

"I don't feel it," the woman sounds gleeful as the words spill from her hot breath against your neck. "That makes our job easier."

You cry out once again, your voice hoarse.

"Aw, looks like he's upset, Ulla. Would you do the honors of giving him something to scream about."

The man, you assume is named Ulla, sighs. "Kallwe, that's not a person, so I won't treat it like one." He warns in a cold voice.

"Do as you please." Sadistic joy drips through her teeth.

You feel an immediate pain cut above your knee. You scream out as the hot agony rips through your right leg and begin to tremble. You hear a sickening crunch and bite your lip. The taste of copper stains your tongue.

"Müdr!" You scream, knowing calling for her was futile. "Help me!"

"She's dead, imp." You hear the man cut through your cries.  "Don't worry though. You won't meet the same fate, though I guarantee it will be worse."

There's a snap as you feel the bits of flesh from your leg tear away from your thigh. You whimper and cry, feeling numbing pain and the warmth of blood spread underneath you. You bury your head into the snow, only faintly realizing your coat is still on your shoulders.

"There. It can't run away now. Pick it up."

You hear the woman on top of you snicker. "Only one leg?"

"Pick. It. Up." Ulla abbreviates harshly.

"Fine." 

You cry out as Kallwe lifts you. You watch with blurry eyes as the snow stained with blood seeps into the melted ice. You suddenly fall back mid-lift. Your face crashes painfully into the ground, briefly distracting you from the pain of your missing limb. 

"I forgot," Kallwe hums. "I can't let you lash out at me with those sharp fingers. Ulla, rope?"

You try to twist around. To drag your body across the snow to escape. Kallwe merely steps on your severed leg and you scream in response.

"He stopped bleeding?" A surprise tone floats in curiosity.

"It does that," Ulla answers. "I can open it again for you if you like. We need as much blood loss as possible if we want to drag this thing back."

You cringe at the thought. Your leg still burns. You still feel heat running through your thigh. If they cut it again, how much more pain could it cause? It can't get any worse, right? You hope that it can't. You once again wonder why they are doing this. Why did they have to murder your müdr and hurt you so badly, for what?

You twist violently with a new energy.

Rage.

You turn your head to bite down on Kallwe's exposed neck. You catch her eyes widen in the holes on her silver mask. Blood floods through your mouth and you drink it in. You keep a grip on her as she lunges back, a gurgled scream escaping her lips. She scratches at you, kicks you, and tries to push you off as she falls on her back.

You feel large hands grab your shoulders and snatch you away. The woman's skin rips away from her neck, her flesh dangling in your maw. 

"Damn, Rali!" Ulla shouts. "Useless! I'll do this myself!"

You feel a sharp pain pierce your upper spine. All sensations from your neck down goes numb. You slump onto the man's legs and he kicks you to the side. 

The last thing you see is the heaving Kallwe, her eyes staring daggers into you as she hyperventilates. Her head is bent at an odd angle as she tries to look up, her feet being the closest to you. You watch her fingers twitch and hear the blood gurgle from her throat as she tries to speak.

"Quiet, idiot! You've done enough! Look what you've done!"

With darkening vision, you see Ulla stomp over to her, sloshing the red snow in his wake. He kneels over his companion and drives a green cylinder into her chest. Before your consciousness fades, you hear a drowned breath of air.