The Moon peeked through the dark clouds that hid her eyes from the world. Her light bared down at the small figure running through the blood-soaked battle. Her bare feet slip on the grass, wet strands of hair cling to her face, and her body shivers from the cold winds caressing her drenched body.
She does not cower from the flash of lightning. She does not flinch from the boom of the thunder. She does not hide from the rain that falls. She is the Catalyst and she is the Finale.
There was no place she’d rather be.
She tears across the field like the storm that she is, ignoring the rest of the world, her sights set only on the beating of her heart.
And the one it belonged to.
The great beast looms over the fighting, its red eyes locked on its target. The skinny brown wolf continues to hide, dodging its looming teeth to feed its ever-growing kill count. Like the coward he is.
But with the evacuation, there is nowhere to hide any longer.