Dawn of the Hunter

Lost Child

Authoress' Notes: Hello readers to yet another werewolf story. However, before you even go there, please note that we are NOT going with clichés here. There will not be any werewolf on werewolf smut, especially since this is going to be one of those coming of age stories. If you want the former, go find them elsewhere 'cause I ain't bringing that into my story.

Anyone who was not discouraged by this, please feel free to read on. This is the first time I write something like this, and yes, there will be some world building and experimentation as I go through this. I will be doing research to make this story seem real since I honestly have no real-life experience in this subject.

Lastly, updates might be a bit slow at first, but they'll pick up in due time.

Thank you everyone for giving this a chance, and I promise you will not be disappointed.

~Chibi Mirai Gogeta

Dawn of the Hunter

Prologue-Lost Child

The sound of footfalls and heavy panting broke the silence that cold winter night as a woman ran through the snow. In her arms slept an infant that seemed far too young to know what was going on. Yet, the woman who held the child seemed frightened by the gunshot that fired off in the distance. Whoever was pursuing her was catching up—fast.

Sliding down to the creek, she began to cross the icy water, her footfalls thankfully connecting to the ground rather than crushing through the ice. She knew that she could not afford to have the men pursuing her to see that she had waded her way across. She had no time to cover her tracks considering that they were skilled at their job.

No matter, as long as she found some form of safety for her child, she would be alright with the consequences of her actions. She moved slightly off course to the thicker brush and emerged on the other side of the creek's banks before moving forward once again. Glancing behind, she could see the orange tongues of the torches that they wielded in their hands and feared the worst.

The woman continued her run until she saw a farm ahead of her. She saw one of the barn doors slightly ajar and quickly closed the distance before squeezing her way inside the small opening. The child in her arms stirred yet did not awaken as the woman heard the slight alarm of one of the cows. Not wasting time, she laid the child down in the hay and removed the gold and sapphire crescent brooch from her cloak and fastened it to the linens that the child was wrapped in.

"Stay safe, my child," the woman kissed the sleeping baby's brow before leaving the barn. She had wasted too much time already and knew that they would soon catch up. Deciding to back track and brush away the path she took to the barn, she knew that she had to do everything possible to protect her child from harm.

Even if it meant giving her life in the process.

Erasing what trail she left, she changed course and ran down the fence line close to where she had abandoned her baby. Her final act was to ensure that the life she saved would one day reunite her pack rather than tear them apart as the accursed witch of the tribe proclaimed.

_______________________________

The sound of a rooster's crow echoed through the farm as a man stepped out of the house, his salt and peppered hair shining in the sun's dawning light. He crossed the snowy pastures when he heard the soft whimpering cries of something peculiar coming from the barn. Sliding the door open, he was unprepared to see a baby crying in the hay with the cows steering clear of the infant almost out of fear.

"Why are ya scared of a baby Bessie?" the man asked the cow that would usually take to any child without a hint of fear. His attention fell back to the child's cries as he knelt and saw the brooch before the child's eyes opened. They were a strange brown color—far too pale to be considered natural. The man saw the tears rolling down the infant's reddened face. How long had this child been out here alone?

"Mary!" He lifted the child into his arms, noticing that the baby was unusually warm. He abandoned his morning chores and ran the child into the house. "Mary! Come quick!"

"Goodness George..." the woman muttered as she came into the dining area only dressed in her gown. Her dark hair was less gray than her husband's; however, she was starting to show signs of age in the form of faint wrinkles on her cheeks. Her eyes widened when she spied the baby in her husband's arms. "Is... is that a baby?"

"I reckon that the wee babe has been in the barn all night," George told his wife as he passed the baby to the woman. The baby was crying until it suddenly became quiet in a woman's arms. The baby's eyes opened and stared at the woman holding it.

"Did you find out if it was a boy or a girl yet?" Mary asked George while setting the baby down on the table.

"I was more concerned to bring him in than check the gender," George excused himself. "It's bound to be a boy though the way he scared poor Bess."

Mary unwrapped the child from the linen and realized that the baby was completely naked underneath. "Girl," the woman noted.

"Well I'll be," George took in the dark-haired baby's appearance. "I think God's finally giving us a chance to be parents..."

Mary smiled sadly at the irony. She had tried early on in their marriage to conceive a child, but she learned later that she was infertile. Rather than leave his wife, George had reassured her that he would love her all the same and was ever faithful to Mary.

"What should we name her?" Mary asked her husband, her eyes filled with hope.

John looked outside at the sun rising just rising above the horizon and smiled softly. "Dawn."