Hunted

Chapter One

Hunted
1

"Come on Fleur!" I whisper-yelled as I pulled on my muck boots.

Pawsteps sounded from behind me and I pulled open the sliding door to let her race past. Fleur flew through the open doorway and leaped over the wooden steps, skidding across the slippery grass as she turned around to look at me.

She cocked her head, making one of her floppy golden ears straighten out. Her amber eyes were bright as she wagged her fluffy tail like a flag.

"I know." I chuckled, "I'm coming." I pointed to the pasture and the dog took off running across the yard, nearly slipping several times on the wet turf. I giggled and broke into a jog, following her to the barn.

Easily she beat me there, patiently sitting on her rump in front of the door. She wagged her tail as I approached, letting out a quiet bark.

Even though I wasn't that far behind her, she always looked incredibly happy to see me. I was her best friend, as she was mine.

We rescued her from the woods when I was only about eight years old. My parents guessed Fleur was around two weeks old at the time. Both of my parents were skilled veterinarians and able to save her from various wounds caused by who knows what.

My guess was that she was attacked by a wolf. But I also had the theory that Fleur was part wolf. My parents don't agree, identifying her as a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever. But that doesn't make much sense to me; what would a purebred puppy be doing in the middle of the forest? I stand strong with my belief that she's part wolf.

Anyway, after we rescued her, she wouldn't stop following me around. We only wanted to keep her long enough to heal and then either find her owner or put her up for adoption at the Clinic. We tried both of those options; each time Fleur whimpered and cried until she was placed back in my arms. So eventually my parents gave up and let me keep her. We called her Fleur because we found her in a flower filled meadow and also because at that age, I was obsessed with all things flower. Fleur is French for Flower.

I slid the heavy barn door open and Fleur followed me inside. I pulled on the string next to the doorway, turning on the dim light. I clicked my tongue and instantly saw Aysha's brown and white speckled head pop up from her stall.

Aysha was a brown and white Appaloosa horse. My horse. Okay technically "she's the family's" but I was the only one who rode her.

I'm also the only one who really took care of the horses. My brother Ryker would every once in a while, but he cared more about Video Games and girls than the animals we rescued.

I walked up to Aysha's stall and reached my hand out, stroking her nose. She nickered and flicked her ears a little. I gave her a pat to the cheek before heading down the aisle to the back, where we kept all the horse feed and mucking tools.

I picked up the open bag and walked back down to the stall. It was heavy, but I'd built strength from doing this every single morning for years.

I slowly tipped the bag over her trough, filling it enough for the day. I turned around and walked to the other side of the aisle, doing the same for Raven, our other horse.

We only had two, but enough space for six. The barn came with the house, but when my parents moved in, they never thought we'd use it. Until we went hiking in the mountains and ended up bringing home a horse.

I'm not kidding. It wasn't planned at all! Aysha was a wild mustang, but we found her in a little clearing in a valley during a hike when I was around six years old. Aysha took a liking to me and followed me around like a dog. My parents even tried to shoo her away when we were getting ready to head back home, but the horse merely side stepped and then nuzzled my head.

We turned back anyway and started heading home, but she followed us back through the hiking trails and all the way home! So she unintentionally became ours. My parents joked that I had a superpower when it came to animals.

We got Raven when I was about ten. Aysha didn't really like anyone except for me, so my parents bought him for my brothers. He was a black Friesian horse mix.

I put the feed back where it belonged and said a quick goodbye to Aysha, promising her I'd ride after school. I clicked off the light and headed back outside, Fleur at my heels. We had two more stops before I could go get ready for school.

As I walked across the yard, I caught sight of the sky and smiled. A rainbow from last night's storm stretched across, mixing in with the orange and pinks of the sunrise. Birds chirped from the woods as the wind rustled the leaves. Fleur let out soft yips, trying to join in. I sighed in happiness, all of it music to my ears. Mornings were my favorite!

We reached the other side of the large yard and I stopped at a small shed, digging out a key from my pocket. I unlocked the shed and stepped one foot in, just enough to grab a handful of cut up meat from one of the buckets.

I walked around to the side where we had a barbed wire fenced pen that held a single wolf. Whether the wolf was male or female, we couldn't tell; it's fur was too thick and it didn't like us to touch it or really come near it.

I tossed the meat pieces over the fence, each one hitting the ground with a gross splash. The wolf just stared at me, paying no attention to its breakfast.

"Eat!" I encouraged, but it flicked its eyes to the left. I could've sworn it was rolling them with a level of sass.

I huffed. "Fine! Starve yourself and make yourself weaker so we'll never set you back in the woods."

The wolf blinked and dipped its head, taking a few pieces and chewing them slowly, it's eyes never leaving mine.

I blinked back, not expecting that to work. Could it understand me? I shook the strange feeling off and went to close the shed, locking it and placing the key back in my sweatpants pocket.

Closer up by the house was our chicken coop. That was the last place on my round each morning. I walked past the wolf pen to see Fleur wagging her tail at it. The wolf just growled at her.

"Fleur don't agitate it." I told her, patting my leg to get her to follow me. Obediently, she trotted next to me, her fur brushing against my knee.

We got to the chicken coop and I picked up the bucket of seed, taking a handful and spreading it around the outside pen.

"Alright Fleur, go ahead." I told the dog, setting the bucket back.

She wagged her tail and shoved her head through a little doorway, barking several times. Startled, the chickens squawked and fluttered out of their nests and into the outside pen.

Fleur wiggled back out and I opened the walk in door to collect eggs. I found four, carrying two in each hand, and we headed back inside.

I placed the farm fresh eggs in the fridge and checked the time. 7:09. Perfect. Time to get ready for the day.