Herra wakes up in the night, another half moon come around again. Her tail curls around her leg, then straightened as she lets out a big yawn. The bed, laid out under the stars atop a makeshift shelter in a tree. She hold onto her head in the recurrent brief pain. Her eyes change from gold to green. Trying to focus on something else than the pain as the change occurs she traces the cross-shaped scar etched onto her chest. Hunters never give up. A lesson well learned in her childhood. Leaping out of the shelter, she prowls ahead north for some time.
Finally, coming to an encampment of men; dressed in leathers and long hats, swords and guns at their sides. Hissing to her own disgust with them, she traces the steps of one that has gone out of the camp. They’re getting too close to home. A message needs to be sent to them. Not but a minute later she spots the figure of the markings she’s been tracking. Stealth is another point to have been learned in the wilderness. A pounce, claws out and ready for the kill, executed flawlessly. The clothing mostly torn, the gun ripped away, the man fighting back. Wait, no, this isn’t a man. A huntress? That’s new for them. She gets shoved off of the huntress in her moment of hesitation.
The huntress is scared. Ready to pounce again, bits of blood in her mouth Herra asks, “Why are you with these men? Why are you here?”
She takes a moment for a breath of relief. “I wanted to see you.” She answers simply.
Herra cautiously rises, meeting her gaze in an upright, more human stance. “You know what I do to hunters, don’t you? What I almost just did to you?” she looks her over once more. “What could you possibly want from me?”
“Some peace, Herra.” she twitches at the sound of her own name. “And, maybe, some remembrance?” The huntress extends a hand to her, and gives her a weak smile. End
And here's mine.
It was a good night, the wind chilled against my skin as I looked at the moon, a very dim moon, which I prefered as it allowed me to more easily stalk my prey. I looked behind me as Kits familiar footsteps padded skillfully across the rocks and dirt making little to no noise. I admired his strong physique, a strong and slim build well suited to the Hunt, unlike males from other packs who boasted in their bloated muscle, which made them clumsy and difficult to hunt with, as they were so overstuffed with their pride and confidence in finding a mate which made them see silence and stealth as cowardice.
Kit smiled up at me with his warm amber eyes.
(“Enter cocky flirty compliment”)
I smiled at him,
“It is an honor to receive such praise from a kitsune such as yourself” She replied, comfortable in his easy companionship and the nomad air about him which made it seem as if he would simply blow away with the next wind he fancied.
The first Howl rose from the forests below them and their heads swiveled in the direction of the Howl as instinct took over and they Shifted at the same time, I became my other self basking in the simplicity that came with the Wolf, She turned her shaggy head to Kit, who had transformed into a twin tailed red fox, this form suited him as well as his other, the mischievous grin fitting him perfectly as he looked to me before we ran off into the forest to hunt.
...this summer, no one is allowed to look at the moon, or books, or anything else but her
Your artworks are always really stunning!