She had nowhere to go, and the fall from a jump at that height could break any of her bones.
In mid leap, the werewolf passed through the moons light and began to shift into wolf form. His fingernails extended into wickedly sharp claws, and his face stretched into a muzzle of glistening teeth. Gray fur shot from his spine as he leapt. The cloak lay in a heap, forgotten, on the ground. He pawed at the trunk of her tree, scoring large lines down its sides. He growled furiously, his eyes glinting. Could he climb trees? Natalya didn't know.
She let another arrow fly, but her hand shook with fear, and she sent it into his foreleg and not his heart as she had intended.
The werewolf yelped and shrank away. Natalya cheered inwardly, but her joy was short lived. Some kind of message passed between him and his companions, and they too changed forms. After a moment, their leader leapt back into the fray. He was limping, favoring his front paw, and the wound could not completely close over the arrow. It did not stop him as Natalya hoped though, and they prowled around her tree, barring her escape.
Natalya's haven had become a trap. She felt the beginnings of despair and she fought it, determined not to allow it to overwhelm her. She thought of the risk she had taken by following the vampire here. If she didn't make it...if the werewolves killed her, surely her people would try to find her. Would they risk another war by searching here when they couldn't find her remains within their city limits? Would they declare war themselves against the werewolves when they found out they had killed her? The morbid possibilities that ran through her mind grew more and more bleak. She shook her head. She was a vampire huntress, and she would not allow these things to come to pass. She would fight to whatever end she found herself in. Invigorated, she turned to her present problem. She would have to come down at some point, and she couldn't afford to lose any more of her arrows if she missed.
She didn't risk hurling her stake into one of their chests; if she failed to penetrate one of their hearts, she could lose her precious weapon. She would have to keep both weapons on her in case they attacked her at close range.
An angry growl snapped her back to the present. The leader of the werewolves charged swiftly back into a human, reaching for the cloak again. He threw it around himself and stalked towards the tree, measuring the distance between himself and Natalya. His features were twisted in anger as he grabbed one of the lower branches of her perch, intending to climb after her himself. He was almost upon her, having climbed the tree faster even than she had. His gnarled hand reached for her, the rapidly shrinking nails at the ends poised to claw at her flesh.
Natalya froze for a mere second before her instincts took over. She reached for one of her arrows and raised it above her, not bothering with the bow. She thrust it into his hand, half expecting the brittle wood to snap in two with the impact. Instead, it had buried itself into the werewolf's flesh, and the strangled gasp of pain that came from him was agonizing to hear. He had let go with his injured hand. Natalya was sickened by the stench of burning flesh. The silver was already spreading, dissolving his skin as it moved swiftly through his bloodstream, seeking his heart.
He reappeared, but the pain had been enough to stop him from trying to climb after her again. With an enraged snarl he abandoned his human form in favor of the wolf again, ready for a second attack, but the arrow held stubbornly in his paw.
The werewolves were growing impatient. They could not reach her though they tried bitterly, snapping their fangs at her, and she remained safe high above them. Natalya grew more and more worried. How long could they go without food? She figured longer than her. She was growing weary. The cold of the night seeped into her exposed skin and she shivered with nothing to draw warmth from. Resigned to a long night, she leaned into the tree, the stake resting across her lap. She closed her eyes, but her body remained tense, ready, and unwilling yet to surrender to sleep with danger so close. It wasn't long before she heard another approaching. Instantly alert, her eyes snapped open. She counted the footfalls as he neared them. He was still in human form. The werewolves had turned to face him and he advanced, his human face snarling. Natalya leaned forward, anxious to know how this newcomer's presence would affect her predicament.
"She's mine," he growled in a voice that was more wolf like than it was human. The moonlight illuminated his face, and Natalya gasped. It was the werewolf she had seen earlier! The curious expression he had worn earlier was replaced by rage, and now he truly looked inhuman. He showed no fear against the three.
The leader didn't reply, and the next moment their visitor had transformed. Fight, Natalya willed them in her head, hoping she could escape in the confusion.
Slightly larger than true wolves, with gaunt but muscular forms, they circled one another, sizing each other up. Their bodies were sleek, defined and the same shade of gray. One of the beasts had raised a paw and raked it across another's side, and Natalya was lost in the chaos that had ensued. Still gripping her stake, she used it to steady herself as she descended from the tree. The werewolves were still fighting, biting and snarling in a writhing mass. She broke into a run and instantly heard snarling behind her. She chanced a look over her shoulder and saw that one of the werewolves had detached itself from the others and followed her at a run. He was gaining fast, and Natalya had only seconds to decide her next move. She moved to the side and waited. He was nearly upon her. The werewolf opened his jaws and leaped at her, trying to sink his fangs into her flesh.
But she was ready for him. For a split second, she could see his exposed chest. His paws were spread out on either side of her, prepared to knock her to the ground, but he didn't make it that far. Natalya thrust her stake into his chest. This time her aim was true, and his body struggled to close the wound around the stake that had penetrated his heart.
The werewolf fell to the ground, twitching uncontrollably as he whined. He rapidly changed forms without intention, from wolf to human and back to wolf. There he lay weakening, and Natalya was surprised to also see a strange look of peace descend upon his features for the briefest of seconds before he took his last shuddering breath. He was strangely beautiful in death.
She had paused a second too long. She didn't have time to react as the second werewolf attacked. Coming at her from behind, he clawed at her back. Natalya screamed, waiting for his jaws to close around her neck. Instead, she heard a high pitched yelp.
Whirling around she saw him locked in battle with the other werewolf. He drove her attacker deeper into the woods, and Natalya took this time to withdraw her stake from the dead werewolf's body. She tore into the woods towards the fray, relying on the sounds of their fighting to guide her. She was done running, and adrenaline fueled her desire to kill.
All at once, the snapping and writhing of the werewolves ceased and Natalya felt the woods plunge into silence.
Breathing in short ragged gasps, she groped her way through the darkness, feeling vulnerable as any human girl when confronted with the unknown in the dark.
She nearly tripped over his tail before she had seen him. She silenced herself, even quieting her own breathing as she approached the unnaturally still body. She was tense, ready for the brute to suddenly awaken and attack, but as the seconds ticked on, he didn't move. She peered closer and was immediately overcome with the stench of freshly spilled blood.
The werewolf's throat had been torn out— his eyes staring ahead sightlessly, cloudy and full of sorrow. She swallowed the bile in her throat and looked up to see another werewolf approaching. He rose slowly and transformed into the gold eyed human before her.
Natalya stood up slowly as he neared her. He stood across from her, watching her intently. She did not know if she was relieved or not. The tension in the air was palpable. Neither one moved. Natalya spoke first.
"Two of them are dead. What became of the other werewolf?"
"He will move no more" he said simply.
"You saved me," she said, not quite believing it herself. "So you mean to take me now and kill me too then, I suppose." She raised her stake, ready to run it straight through his heart. She could think of no other reason for the savage to have done it, if not for the satisfaction of killing her himself.
"I could," he growled softly, taking a step towards her. She prepared to defend herself.
"You wouldn't make it another step," she warned, and he stopped. He laughed bitterly, then abruptly stopped his face almost mocking.
"You wouldn't kill your rescuer...would you?"
"My...rescuer?" His words confused her, catching her off guard more swiftly than a quick strike would have.
"Why else do you think I turned against my own kind?" He motioned at the dead werewolf.
Her voice was still hard. "You said I was yours. What did you mean? I am not a prize to be won, nor meat to be defended."
"I had to tell them something. They-I mean to say we, do not usually challenge another's claimed territory. It was possible they may have allowed you to escape if they thought I had already claimed you as my own. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out that way." He smiled coldly, and the sight of it enraged Natalya.
"One of your own lies dead, and you smile before me! You truly are a barbaric species."
"I saved your life human, and you should be thanking me! Without me, he would have killed you and the birds would already be gathering here to feed from your bones." He glared at the dead werewolf, his lips curling with disgust. The confusion in her eyes must have been obvious as he spoke with obvious indifference to his fate.
"We are not the same, him and me," he explained without prompting. "I shall have nothing to do with his kind." With that, he spat on the werewolf's body.
Natalya paused, unsure. She didn't understand his motivations for saving her, nor his open hostility towards the fallen werewolf. She allowed her mind to wander over the possibilities, avoiding his gaze. Finally, she could stand it no more. She looked up, allowing her eyes to take in his body. She took in his rugged appearance, his muscles that rippled easily under his tattered clothing, the tribal like tattoos that ran down his arms and legs and his unshaven face. He must have retrieved his clothing shortly after he had transformed. Their eyes finally locked and she was pulled into their gold depths.
"You are both werewolves though."
"He enjoys his affliction, his curse. I do not," he growled.
"His...curse? But I thought you all enjoyed being werewolves," Natalya said stupidly. She had never thought of being a werewolf as a curse.
He barked out a dry laugh again. When he turned to look at her his expression was one of shocked incredulity.
"Is that what your people believe?" he snarled at her, and the hostility in his voice nearly made her flinch. "Do you think that we are merely powerful beasts that run under the moon as wolves? You think we are blessed with our immortal lives, stuck here until whatever end may or may not await us? You might have your romantic ideas about us, but the reality is far darker than that, human."
There it was again, the venom behind the word. What could she say to that?
"I'm sorry," she said. He looked away, and his expression seemed to deflate as his anger left him.
"Don't be." he said, not looking at her.
"What is your name?" she finally asked. He turned once more towards her and seemed to be deciding if he should answer or not.
"Please at least let me know the name of my rescuer."
Finally he spoke.
"My name is Voren."
"Thank you, Voren. I am Natalya. I wish to thank you for what you have done for me."
Voren winced at her words, and his face looked oddly pained, but he did not explain. There was a strangeness between them that she felt as palpably as anything else. Although Natalya found herself comforted by his presence and did not want to return to her quarry just yet, she felt torn. She thought of her people, especially Anesa. She wanted to know so much about this strange werewolf that defied her peoples' every attempt to vilify them, but he was so closed off that she wondered about his true motives. She looked up at him, and he too seemed uncertain, caught between wanting to say something or simply melt into the trees and disappear again like the wild wolf.
A few minutes had passed before he finally broke the silence.
"You shouldn't be here alone. Come with me." He was stiff, but his face was protective. Without hesitation Natalya followed, but the slight hint that she couldn't handle herself needled her.
"I can find my own way back," she muttered. "I have something that needs finishing here anyway."
"Natalya...you don't know what you are saying," he said. "Others of my kind will not be so permitting of a human trespasser. They do not look favorably upon humans and will not hesitate to attack like the others did."
"I am not a weak human girl, Voren. I am a vampire huntress, and I have proven I can defend myself against even werewolves. The three that surrounded me in the Ruins had me outnumbered. I would have defeated any of them in a fair fight."
"Celestial Hold," he interrupted, so quietly she could barely hear.
"What?"
"The name of our city was Celestial Hold," he growled. "At least that is how it is said in your tongue. The Ruins? That is what our burned city is known to your people? Is there no limit to the pride and arrogance of your kind?"
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you. It's what we call...your part of the city. I've never known it by any other name." she said quickly.
"I never knew." His voice was bitter.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Please forgive me."
He simply nodded and the moment felt strange. Just like their peoples, Natalya felt as if they were on a scale of their own, dipping towards enmity and peace constantly. There was a faint noise in the distance, and he stopped, motioning for her to stay silent. He sniffed the air suspiciously, all traces of his prior hostility gone.
"Someone approaches."
"I know," she said for her amulet had already burned warmly on her skin.
"He smells like ash, one that has touched death. A vampire! And he is within werewolf territory."
"Yes. I intend to kill him. He is the reason I am here," she said, and then she knew the Vampire had fled the deadliness of her stake.
"You would be destroyed! If not by him, by others of my kind! The others will have scented the vampire already and will be moving in."
"I am not to be underestimated."
"I didn't save you only to see you killed. But it does not matter; one makes their own decisions. My deed is complete; what is done is done," he said in a clipped tone.
He turned to leave, and Natalya watched him go with a mixture of resentment and near veneration. She blinked once, and he had gone, quicker than she could have imagined. She scanned the woods where he had been a moment before, but he was at home within them as any true wolf.
Good luck, Natalya. The words sounded in her head, and Natalya gasped for the thought had not been hers. Even though the werewolf had faded from her sight, she knew he had spoken to her telepathically.
"Thank you," she whispered to the empty forest. She shook her head, quelling a strange desire to follow the werewolf.
Instead, she turned back toward the vampire.