The Hunt

Chapter 1

I gasped as masses of humans sprinted past me into the woods, weapons at the ready, all yelling profanities and cheering, egging each other on.

They all looked so confident, and up until this very moment, I was too.

But actually peering deep into the murky forest where I knew the killer wolves would be lurking was unsettling.

However, I couldn't let my fear get the best of me. This was what I was brought up to do. My fellow humans wouldn't do this alone.

"Let the hunt begin!" roared my leader, Markus, ushering everyone forwards, his long dark hair pulled back into a messy bun, determination evident in his eyes.

I moved with the rest of the crowd, my shaking hands clutching at my bow and arrow, my blade stuffed down the side of my tattered belt. The sharp silver hit my legs as I stepped, the cold metal causing goose bumps to rise along my skin.

For as long as I could remember, all the humans had spoken about within my colony was 'The Hunt'.

To them, it was like Christmas, something they looked forward to and celebrated as if it was a birthday for a loved one.

This was my first year, since I had only just turned twenty three, the age at which the humans deemed you fully trained and qualified to take on the deadly wolves.

On any other day, we wouldn't stand a chance against the beasts, however, today was the only day we did, and we used it to our advantage to show the wolves that we weren't afraid of them. Humans mattered too and we weren't going to stand for their torment.

Once every six months, the wolves weakened, making it easier for us to kill them. Some of them even struggled to shift, leaving them to fend for themselves in just their fragile human forms.

We were unsure as to why this happened, but our tales had always told us that it was the Goddess' way of restoring peace within the realm after the beasts became arrogant, showing all species that everyone had their weaknesses and no one species was to rule another.

However, the wolves still continued to torment us throughout the year, taking over our land, forcing us out of our homes and even killing colonies just for sport. It was sick.

The day on which the beasts weakened changed, giving us the advantage, meaning the wolves couldn't sense until it was too late. Markus could though, all stronger humans holding some odd ability, knowing when the time was right, and when to strike.

It was nightfall, and I pushed through the shrubs and bushes, getting further and further away from our colonies' homeland, venturing out into the herbage.

Thorns grabbed a hold of me as I brushed past them, everyone completely silent, the only sound being our careful footsteps and the owls hooting up at the glowing moon.

The soil crunched underneath my feet as I continued to walk, peering through the darkness in an attempt to catch a glimpse of anything, however, my human vision failed me, causing me to huff to myself in frustration.

Suddenly, my ears rang as a piercing howl rippled through the air, making me gasp, my heart hammering against my ribcage, cortisol racing through my veins, my adrenaline making me shake even more than I already was.

"Move!" yelled a voice from behind me, and I turned to see my father, his intimidating glare frightening me, my feet temporarily glued to the mud until I felt his hands shove me from behind, clearly agitated with my hesitation.

My father had always been a real ambassador for The Hunt, his need to prove himself to others always at the forefront of his mind.

He was pushy and assertive, and terrified me at times, leaving me often returning from training sobbing, worrying that I was going to disappoint him.