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"POTAMI!"
The voice of her old friend calling her name echoed through River's memory as if it were only yesterday and not over half-a-century ago.
Her heart ached with longing at the cloudy memories of the faces of those she had once loved, but she couldn't control the shiver that wracked through her as she recalled the darkest hours of that night...
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"POTAMI!"
The young werepuma felt the beating heat of adrenaline rush through her as she raced through the snowy undergrowth of the forest, the bright moon above her dappling the snow and her tawny pelt with light through the trees' naked branches, causing speckles of moonlight to rain down over her fur, turning it silver.
Potami's left ear twitched in acknowledgement when her close friend, Gyda, caught up with her, running evenly by her side. Gyda's pitch-black fur stood out against the white terrain and her green eyes stared ahead of her as they and the many warriors behind them ran towards to battle ahead.
Life in the tribe was not at all peaceful these days, especially with more lycanthropes appearing around England wreaking havoc. Potami was only sixty-four summers old, and because of her species, she was still considered extremely young and had only been appointed a trained warrior for forty-six summers along with her sister, Calypso, who fought in the first patrol being led by their brother, the heir, Leif.
The war between lycanthropes and puma-shifters has been taking place since Potami was only thirteen, and her mother had despairingly been one of the first victims in their malicious attacks. Many warriors have been lost to the carnage, and Potami was determined not to let anyone else she cared about die. She still mourned over the loss of Soma and many others.
Emerging from the woods and making face with the loud battlefield, Potami stopped at the borderline of the trees and assessed the chaos before her. There seemed to be hundreds of lycanthropes, all snarling and foaming at the mouth as they assaulted her people. They stood on their two back feet like a human did, but their wolf-like appearance and their tremendous size already gave away their status if it weren't for their outrageous and vindictive demeanour.
Potami let out a yowling war cry before she and her large band of warriors joined the fight. Fur clashed with fur, muscle pounded on muscle, and claws and fangs slashed and bit deep into the other's flesh. Blood sprayed against the pure-white snow along with clumps of flesh and fur, turning it ominous colours of vermillion and black.
After finishing off a weakened lycanthrope with two of her tribemates, Potami stopped to catch her breath as the others dispersed to find a new opponent. Blood drenched her muzzle and paws, her tastebuds feeling like they would shrivel up and die from the bitter taste of lycan gore.
There was a deep yowl near her. Potami turned her head and noticed her brother, Leif, had stood upon the corpse of a huge, black lycanthrope whose neck was torn into nothing but mush, blood, and bone. It's long limp tongue hung out onto the frozen earth and its clouded yellow eyes were rolled into the back of its head. Potami felt a rush of pride and admiration for her eldest sibling.
"Vampires!" Leif yowled a warning to the tribe, his grey fur splattered with black lycan blood. His cold, blue gaze then found Potami's when he leaped down from his discarded kill. "Gather the warriors, sister," he growled out as he moved to stand beside her.
Potami gave him a respectful nod before letting out a screech to her tribemates. Obeying the signal, all puma-shifters had leaped away from the lycanthropes and bounded towards the middle of the battlefield, regrouping around Leif and Potami, hissing and spitting at the lycanthrope's that were regaining their composures and slowly approaching them with spiking fur.
The repulsive beasts drooled onto the snow, threatening the felines with sharp, baring teeth and their horrid snarling. However, there was a pained howl behind them, and the huge canines all turned their attention to the other side of the field behind them.
One of the lycans lay dead, its black-and-yellow heart had been torn out from its back and now was held in the hand of a man. Though Potami knew it was no ordinary man, not at all. Even if her brother had not warned her of the scent of vampires in the breeze, she still would have known. No human could take down a lycanthrope with a single hand. This was a vampire. And she was only proven further correctly as more dark cloaks appeared behind him.
Judging by his crimson-and-black robes with faded gold-and-silver embroidery, Potami also knew this was no normal vampire either. The elders often told stories of the vampire race and their ways. These vampires were of the Volturi. A dangerous and powerful vampire coven bound to rule with an iron fist. The elders spoke of their laws, that they didn't have many, but one that stood the most to her was that any lycanthrope alive is to be killed on sight. Potami rather liked that one. She just hoped they would not go after her kind also.
Potami's claws dug deeply into the snow. Her brother had not yet given them a command, as he was watching the vampire drop the lycan heart onto the now bloody snow.
Potami had never come across vampires before. They were pale as the spirits the kahuna visited every crescent moon. Her father always told her they smelt of stone and something sour, but the scent that came across her was not what she had imagined at all. Inhaling it now, Potami smelt something comforting on the light breeze that swept her way. Begrudgingly, she just hoped it was not the vampires she was smelling and perhaps a field of winter flowers near them instead.
The vampire who had killed the lycan effortlessly looked up and studied the situation before him. Potami took this time to look closer at him. His eyes were as the tales told, red as the fresh blood of her kin, almost crimson if it weren't for the blackened hunger within them. His hair was long, wavy, and brown, reaching his shoulders in delicate curls. He was tall and bore a golden pendant with a rectangular crest, a small ruby adorned right in the centre.
Potami bristled when even more cloaked vampires emerged from the woods behind him, it seemed to look like a fair fight now. There were as many numbers as possible on every opposing side. A fair battle? Perhaps it was time to test who were the better species.
On her right, Potami felt Gyda's dark flank pressing against her own. She knew her friend was nervous of what was to come. The tribe's kahuna did not foretell them of vampires in their future. But perhaps Vera could not see every outcome. In the present of this, every puma-shifter in this field were tense and hostile to both species before them.
Potami did not know who struck first, all she knew is that when she heard her brother's battle-filled cry she pounced on the first lycanthrope she saw with three other warriors by her side.
Potami slashed at the brown beast's stomach, her thorn-sharp claws digging deep into its belly like warm butter and the beast howled in agony. It collapsed into the snow before Potami's tribemates leaped down onto it, tearing and ripping at its leather, stinking flesh.
Potami scanned the terrain for her next fight. Her eyes caught the sight of her sister, Calypso, pinned to the ground on her back by a white-furred lycanthrope, it's jaws inches away from her vulnerable throat. Letting out a shriek, Potami flung herself across the field and collided into the beast's side.
Letting out a shocked yelp, the beast collapsed with Potami with a spray of snow, both of their limbs flailing to rediscover their balance. Potami barely glanced back at the staggering Calypso as she leaped onto the Lycanthrope's shoulders before it could regain its composure.
Seeing red, Potami dug her claws into the horrid creature's leathery back and shoulders, holding on tightly as it flung itself around like a bull to fling her off. Calypso cried out with worry, forced to back away to not be hit with a flailing tail or clawed paw. She looked hopeless as she watched her littermate fight off the lycanthrope in the defence of her life.
Potami let out another screech, digging her jaws into the back of the lycanthropes neck, trying not to gag at the smell and taste of its blood and disgusting body.
Clenching her jaws as hard as she could, she heard a sickening crack before the beast fell limp to the ground, dead. Potami staggered before finding her balance on its back. After she was certain it was dead, Potami retracted her claws and stepped away from the creature.
Calypso immediately raced to her sisters' side, pressing her body against hers, lapping at her sister's bleeding scratches with comforting licks. Before Calypso could voice her appreciation, they both spun around when they heard a familiar cry of pain.
Their brother, Skiafros, a huge black shifter with molten orange eyes, was leaping around and trying to shake off one of the vampires as it held on to his back, its teeth digging into his flesh and its pale hands trying to rip at Skiafros' fur.
Recalling the pain of vampire venom from the elders' stories, Potami immediately leaped forward to protect her older brother as she did with her younger littermate, ignoring Calypso's panicked protests. But Calypso quickly became preoccupied with another lycanthrope who had freed himself from a maul with two vampires to fight her.
Biting down onto the vampire's waist, Potami tore the icy-cold creature from her brother and slammed the blood sucker down back-first into the snowy earth. The vampire screeched and let out a shout of pain as Potami's teeth caused cracks and splinters in his stony, pallid flesh.
Skiafros had gotten up swiftly, and he quickly grasped the vampire by its leg with his jaws, tearing the limb from its body, causing the vampire to wail in agony. However, the moment Skiafros tore it apart for good, another vampire attacked Skiafros from behind him right then and there, letting out some enraged snarling.
Potami turned to face the vampire who assaulted her brother. To her surprise it was the same one who had torn that lycanthrope's heart out. The leader.
Pupils dilating into a thin, sharp line, Potami let out a throaty hiss before colliding into the vampire with unsheathed claws, tearing him from her brother's back. Skiafros looked over at Potami, nodded in gratitude, then turned tail to help their other tribemates who struggled against vampires and lycanthropes.
The vampire stood back up on his feet and let out a menacing roar. Potami wasted no time, moving forward and pinning the vampire onto his back by his shoulders with her huge paws, her thorn-like claws digging into his hard flesh. She leaned forward and let out a yowl-like screech in his face before lifting her paw to strike a killing blow.
However, when their eyes met amidst the epinephrine moment, Potami froze. Her one clawed paw hung stoic in the air as blue eyes stared into dark crimson. The vampire seemed puzzled too for a moment, most likely wondering why she had not yet struck him. Then there was a flash of recognition passed through his gaze and his expression turned into one of amazement.
Loosening the pressure she had on him, Potami was not quite sure why she let the blood sucker place a gentle hand on her furred wrist, as if he were relishing in the feeling of her blood-covered fur.
They stayed there for a while just staring at each other, never breaking the gaze they were holding. Potami didn't understand why she couldn't just finish him off. She had every reason to. He disrupted this battle, his vampires attacked her tribemates, he almost killed her brother! He tried to kill her! But now the thought of hurting him was excruciating to think about, and displeasure rippled through her spine. Her throat felt like it was closing in on itself and there was an uncomfortable tightening feeling in her chest.
A cry of retreat came from Leif somewhere far within the fight, but she did not register it enough to tear her eyes away from the vampire under her. He was the source of that comforting scent, not the winter flowers in the next field over that she had made up. He smelled of stone and the forest and the clear stream that flowed through her territory. He smelled of pinewood, damp earth, and the starlight. He smelled like home.
Leaning forward, Potami wanted to breathe in more of his tantalizing scent, but quickly came back to her senses, pulling away sharply and lifting her paw away from him, letting the vampire sit upright. Nearby, her tribemates were running from the battlefield, fleeing the carnage of lycanthropes and vampires as they continued to fight.
Potami knew they were leaving the two species to finish each other off, and for some reason she did not like the idea of leaving this vampire to the wolves. In fact, it felt wrong. The werepuma said nothing as she stepped back from him, though. She simply had nothing to say. It's not like she didn't want to, it's just... she couldn't.
The tawny-furred shifter stepped back then began to walk away towards the edge of the trees wear her tribemates had escaped into. When she reached the edge of the first cluster of pine trees, Potami couldn't help but to look back at the vampire she couldn't bring herself kill. He stood on his feet now, looking at her with an unreadable expression.
Potami looked back and forth between the direction her tribemates went and the vampire who she was captivated by. But she knew her decision before she even made it. Potami knew that she could not stay with him. For what reason was there to stay, anyway? He was a vampire, and she was a shifter. Potami had no obligation to fight for him. Especially not when his people attacked hers.
Turning back to the forest, she leaped away without hesitance, ignoring the faint ache in her belly, disregarding it for a pulled muscle from the battle she had just fought in.
In the snowy field, amongst the last corpses of werepuma's, lycanthropes and shattered vampires, he watched on sadly as the young warrior disappeared into the tree line. A deep yearning took hold in his cold, unbeating heart. With his power, he saw the golden strings of fate he had with that creature. It was so faint he did not see it when he tried to fight her. A bloom of deep regret settled in his heart.
Marcus Volturi vowed to find her again, even if it took him a-thousand years.
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