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Just.
I stood there, wavering, for several seconds. Or maybe it was the landscape around me that was wavering. I couldn't have said for certain.
Taking another swipe at the sweat and blood dribbling down the side of my face, I resolutely focused my gaze on a lone gum tree and headed toward it.
Luckily for me, the soles of my feet were fairly tough - in fact, I think they were the only bits of me that weren't aching - and the heated earth, sharp stones, and barbed scrubby bushes didn't do much to hinder my progress.
It took about an hour to finally reach the shade. The sun seemed to be hotter even though it was clearly late afternoon, but the minute the dappled light of the tree caressed my skin, the relief from the burning was almost instantaneous. I sighed and, for a moment, closed my eyes, fighting the urge to sit down, to rest.
If I sat, I might not get up. It would be easy to die in a place like this.
I don't intend to kill you, whispered a voice through the fog and the pain clouding my brain. That would be too easy.
I knew that voice, but I couldn't name it. Couldn't bring to mind an image of the man who spoke the words. Didn't know why he would want to put me in such a place, in such danger.
Why would someone want to dump me in the middle of nowhere? I was just . . .
What was I? Who the hell was I?
I didn't know. Reach as I might, no information was getting through the fog.
Anger rose, and I swore softly, frustrated by the lack of memories and understanding.
Someone had put me here, that much was obvious. I couldn't have gotten here any other way, unless I could fly.
The thought made me pause.
Could I fly?
I frowned, uncertain. It seemed right, and yet wrong. Like it was something I could do even if it wasn't something I was born to, wasn't something that was a part of my soul.
But what was my soul?
Hunter, hunter, sleek red hunter. The chant ran gently through my subconscious and memories surfaced - me, being chased by a boy with wild red hair and bright gray eyes. A boy who sang the child's chant moments before he slipped from human to wolf form and pounced.
Wolf.
I was a werewolf.
The relief I felt at that realization was incredible. It flowed through me sweetly, giving me an odd sort of strength. If I could remember that, then I would remember everything else with time.
Besides, a wolf could easily survive in wild places like this. She could find food and water that I, the humanoid, would never spot. She also had a thick red coat to protect her skin from the sun. I needed that protection -
needed it badly.
I closed my eyes and called for the wolf within. But instead of power, what rose was another wash of pain. It was thick and fierce and hit like a punch to the gut, leaving me winded and shaking.
The wolf was there. I could feel her, fierce and angry. But she couldn't answer. There was some sort of barrier between us, something that was stopping her, and I had no idea what that something was.
I screamed then, and it was a thick and angry sound filled with frustration and pain.
Damn it, what the hell was going on?
How could someone stop the wolf? She was a part of me, part what I was. How could that be stopped?
I hope you enjoy the week you have remaining, that arrogant voice had said. But I very much doubt you will.
Fear surged again, its taste so bitter that I almost gagged. A week. I had a week, if that voice was to be believed. A week to discover who I was, where I was, and what the hell was going on.
