The Hunter

The Morning After

As dawn approached, Mira rolled onto her back with her legs in the air. The hunters hadn’t found her in the night and she was grateful for the few hours of uninterrupted sleep. With her stomach lacking its normal hunger pangs, she’d be able to run the whole day. She twisted over onto her paws and stretched as she stood. Once on her feet, she shook out her fur and yawned.

Her paws automatically carried her to the sound of the nearby creek. Something fluttering in the wind on a nearby tree startled her. She snarled before she spun around and prepared to run until her eyes landed on the fire in the middle of the clearing. Memories from the previous day hit her like a truck.

Movement to her right confirmed her suspicions—the hunter hadn’t been a dream. A knife in his hand caught the sunlight as he blinked furiously. His eyes darted around the clearing and his body lowered into a crouch looking for the threat. The only things in the clearing other than the two of them were his pack, the fire with the meat strips over it, and the bones of the buck.

“What is it?” His voice held a hardness she hadn’t heard from him and his eyes narrowed on the surrounding bushes.

With a shake of her head, she moved over to what she now remembered as a shirt. Her body shifted into her human form and she slid the shirt over her head. How had she forgotten about him and what happened the day before?

“Shouldn’t you stay in wolf form if there is a threat?” He took tentative steps towards her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, but his eyes never left the surrounding bushes while inching backwards in her direction. He breathed heavily through his nose, but hunters’ sense weren’t quite as a sensitive as a shifters, so he probably was relying on her instincts.

“There’s no threat,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?” As her words sunk in, his stance relaxed and he lowered his head and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

“The shirt blowing in the wind startled me when I went to get a drink.”

“But you put it there…” As he trailed off, his eyes studied her face.

“I know.” Her cheeks grew hot and she suddenly found the stream a lot more interesting.

“You forgot I was here.” His eyes burned a hole in the side of her head.

“I haven’t exactly had anyone else around for more than a meal in the last three years,” she snapped then growled, “so yes.”

Her harshness shocked him or so she thought until he asked, “Mira, how old are you?”

Silently cursing herself for giving too much away, she walked over to the mostly dried strips of meat. They would need to set them out again that night to help preserve them further, but they would keep until they set up camp again.

At the sound of him clearing his throat, she reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his. “Mira…”

“I’m eighteen,” she whispered, before she pulled some of the strips of meat off the fire.

“Why would a fifteen year old girl be alone in the world of rogues?”

Despite the obvious indignation on her behalf, she couldn’t help the anger that bubbled up inside of her. “Why does it matter how old I was? I’ve seen the ashes of houses where hunters burned them with the babies and children still inside. They were just innocent children! So tell me, hunter, why the hell do you suddenly care?”

A pang of guilt hit her chest at his stricken expression before his features contoured in rage. “Don’t act like wolves are so innocent. Let’s just pack so we can move.”