Tortured Compositions

Chapter One

Chapter One

A rabbit startled from the underbrush as Kayse passed. It scattered a haystack of leaves, dry kindle in the late fall months, but Kayse did not notice it dart into the dusting of fog that lingered along the forest floor. Her legs burned. A stitch knotted in her side, and sweat trickled down her face in rivets of sticky heat. She grimaced at the way her vest clung to her damp skin, but she refused to slow her pace. There was no excuse for failure.

Upcoming branches bent low across the trail. Kayse threw out her arm, blindly pushing them aside as she blinked sweat from her eyes. One particularly sharp branch caught her by her vest, and a few leaves that had dislodged from the branches smacked her in the face. She spit them away and pressed on. The smell of the blood now coating her arm like a second sleeve reached her flaring nostrils and fueled her determination. Any small wounds would be boastful reminders of victory if she made it.

Sunlight broke through the gloom of the trees ahead, and Kayse knew she was near the edge of the forest. With one last burst of energy that pounded through her legs, she took three long strides, cleared a log, smashed through a wall of evergreens, and somehow managed to catch the toe of her boot against a tree root.

Gravity claimed her. Unable to break her fall, she yelped and crashed into the ground with the grace of an injured bird. The light that burst behind her eyelids was brighter than the sunlight surrounding her, and her lungs ached from sudden, incomprehensible asphyxiation. Kayse floundered, grappling the grass with all four of her limbs, until the smell of sodden leaves and old dew registered with her senses.

She groaned.

Before Kayse could find strength enough to push herself to her knees, she heard a rustle of branches, and then huffed and expelled some hair from her mouth when the pressure of small paws landed on her back.

“Hello, Teagan.” She winced through her words as she sat up, and the movement made the paws disappear. Crossing her legs underneath her, Kayse blinked up at the hazy, autumn sky. The chill of the air that settled against her too-hot skin warned her of approaching winter months.

Winter. Definitely not her favorite season.

Kayse collected her scrambled thoughts and looked to the small Mancoon sitting beside her. The smugness in those slitted, yellow eyes taunted her. They gleamed: a predator staring at its helpless prey. Kayse pushed her lips out in a childish pout.

“I would have won had I not fallen. You do realize that, right?”

Teagan, the Mancoon, gave a feline's chuckle and settled his front paws on the curve of her knee. He wrapped his tail around his haunches, twitched his whiskers, and then inclined his head to wash his right paw.

“Braggart,” Kayse muttered, jerking her leg. Teagan dug his claws into her knee and flicked his ears back. When she did it again, he got down and trotted a few steps away. His tail waved smartly in her direction, telling her off.

Kayse rolled her eyes and then gingerly prodded her ribs. A few of them felt bruised and painful, but otherwise she couldn't detect any further damage. Certain that she was fine, she carefully pushed herself to her feet. The dizziness that followed soon passed, and once her breathing steadied, she used her fingers to brush dirt and wet from her clothing.

“Are you alright, Kayse?”

Kayse turned to her companion. A human boy sat where the Mancoon once did. He grinned up at her, and his curly hair was a black, wiry mess around his golden-brown eyes.

“'m fine,” she said, and leaned over to ruffle his hair. He could be rather cocky with her sometimes, but she forgave him that. She always did. However, she refused to let him have the last word, so she added, “Just realize that if we had both been human, I would have won.”