The Hunter and His Prey (The Beginning)

Hey-yo. This is the prequel to The Hunter and His Prey. I have most of it down, and floating around my other files, and just decided to post it. For those who haven't read The Hunter and His Prey yet, reading this first would be quite alright, if not better xD

Happy Nightmares all yous =P xx

For Adrianna =)xx

1

“Oh mother,” I whispered, “I really wish you were here.” I was speaking to no one in particular. No one alive, anyway. Just the grave stone I was hovering over. 

I was sitting behind a curtain of autumn leaves. They twisted and fluttered to the ground, past the place where I was sitting in the branches of the trees, with my back pressed lightly against the trunk. I was lounging high up, above the family cemetery, right above my mothers grave.

I was covered by the shedding leaves, contemplating my life, frowning fericly to myself, while thinking of all the ways I could stop my fathers wedding to Lady Levantine.

Was there really nothing I could do?

My sigh came out in a violent gust, turning white just past my lips as I stared back to the large, stately, walled house on the hill.

If only my mother hadn't died. If only I were born a boy. My father would have an heir! Then he wouldn't feel the need to marry that woman. Why couldn't he marry someone who didn't come with with a grown son?

The thought of Daniel made me growl, remembering the gawky ten year old I had met years ago—one I had injured with an empty ale jug.

I shook my head feircly. One thing, Mina. Daniel Levantine is NOT going to get to you, and you are NOT going to wait on that hound, Lady Levantine, and her arrogant son. I told myself.

But then, my father just might make me. I realized glumly, thoughtfully, while glaring around at what would have been a charming little town to live in, the town my father lorded over. The town I would have much rather burned to the ground, and after, dance madly upon the ashes of that— “Ow!”

“Oh it's just you—sorry. Hail, fair wood elf.”

“Hector!” I hissed breathlessly, rubbing the spot where the rock had hit my cheek. “What the hell are you doing? You did that on purpose!”

“Sorry,” my foster brother told me, grinning sheepishly up at me. “With all that growling you were making, you sounded like a wild animal. I thought you could have been what was terrorising the chickens,” he grinned up at me, leaning against an old grave angel. “Are you coming down?”

“Yes, to repay you,” I threatened, climbing down the tree, and dangling up from the lowest branch. I swung my legs around for a few seconds, so I wouldn't land on the cross. I felt my light shift billow around me, exposing my legs as I landed agilely on the grass.

Despite all that, Hector eyed me with disapproval. “Just like a lady, you are.”

I smiled up at his lovingly familiar face. “Would you like to see me do it again?” Hector was tall, and he owned a very serious looking set of grey coloured eyes, and long brown hair. The colours clashed, giving off a very strange, but interesting effect. He had been fostered here, that means he grew up along side me, training and schooled under my father. And that also meant he was quite used to my antics by now.

“Later,” he grinned evilly. “But your supposed to meet the guests, I'm introducing them to you, remember? And your not even dressed to so much as step out of your chambers.” His eyes strayed down my exposed neck, inched lower to my chest, before he forcing his eyes back to my face. I was too horrified by his words to notice.

“Oh, no, no. You cant make me,” I whispered, instinctively moving towards my tree. His hand darted out to grab my arm.

“Your no match for me Mina,” he said dragging me farther away from my tree.

“Pff, it's not you. I could run circles around you,” I corrected, and he rolled his eyes to the heavens, as he lead me away. “It's my father...”

It was my father I was afraid of. If there was one thing I would run to obey, it was him, but only out of fear. I was just lucky that I hadn't been sold off and married yet at my age, 15, to a forty year old, rich fief lord—not yet anyway—traded for cattle. Maybe sheep.

“You have an actual stick in your hair,” Hector informed me with a sigh.

---------

Daniel