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Carefully I made my way around the thatched stable, the practical side of my brain already critiquing the rough accommodations and mentally ticking off the need for a more solid shelter for our new animals. Perhaps even a small corral. I would ask Dove-caller if they had any hay, since the villagers owned horses as well.
The snap of a branch whipped my head to the right. Moonbeams shined down into the forest through the wind-bending trees.
There was nothing live moving amongst them that I could see. It may have only been the natural rustle and breaking of branches that drew my attention.
I didn’t think so, though.
Call it instinct or intuition, but I knew someone was out there. The rising small hairs on the back of my neck and arms confirmed it.
With held breath, I gripped and raised the gun with both trembling hands, then stepped away from the horses and towards the bushes to the right.
That’s when several things happened simultaneously so fast that I couldn’t process everything at first.
Two glowing blue orbs flashed from the darkness.
I screamed.
Shot the gun.
The blasting kick of the weapon knocked me on my backside.
A canine whined.
Scrambling to my feet, my brain first interpreted that an innocent dog was hurt. Then I quickly reminded myself that I wasn’t in modern suburbia, so it wasn’t some household pet, but a wild and deadly nighttime predator. One that I had shot and killed.
Maybe.
Okay then, what now?
Run back to the cabin and bar the door again? Maybe check the woods for a limp carcass to be certain I hit my mark, then go back to the horses to make sure they were safe?
Then search the woods for Bryant to make sure he was safe, too.
Another dreadful thought then occurred to me—the echoing gunshot itself might draw any nearby Arcan Hunter our way.
Stupid, stupid.
No choice then. I had to find out exactly what I had shot, and if it was dead. Then go hunt for Bryant himself before he ran into our own deadly hunters.
I carefully picked my way through the underbrush, tripping a few times over unseen twigs and rocks. The moon lent dim light to the landscape in some places, but even those shadows were deceptive.
Hiking further into the woods, I searched for any sign of the dead or wounded beast. It was probably a wolf, I determined based on the sound of its initial yelp. Which also meant that I needed to be wary of possible packmates lurking about, ready to avenge their fallen brother.
I halted when finally spotting a tuft of fur waving from a blackberry bush next to a small clearing. I plucked it off the thorny vine and held it up to the moonlight for a better view. It was gray, black and white, with a spot of red. I had nicked the animal then.
Yes, there on the ground another foot away was a small pool of blood. Not much though, and no dead carcass anywhere around.
So wounded, not killed.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I really didn’t want to kill any innocent animal. Of course, this lethal predator probably wouldn’t feel the same about me, if positions were reversed. And if it was still alive, it might be ready to seek its own revenge.
Yeah, time to go.
Quickly I turned and stumbled back to the cabin, yelping when I entered and was grabbed hard by the shoulders.
“Where have you been, woman?” Bryant growled at me, giving me a worried shake. “I’ve been searching to hell and back for you!”
“I...”
