Full Moon by Dixie Carnley (robert munsch read aloud .TXT) 📕

and bile rose in my throat. The warm blood of my people rested here and there where the fire did not reach, and then there was the cool blood of the Pantherian that seemed to want to melt me if I touched it. I was searching for Zane, Ares, and any other of my warriors when a gut wrenching yell rang through the seared forest.
I turned my head towards the sound, but then it suddenly died. Someone else’s life as ended. I stepped over a fallen log, but then I had to leap out of the way of a flaming tree as it was coming down. When I leapt back, I rolled off into a ravine. I rolled over rocks and two bodies, one Pantherian and another Equaddian, before I hit the ground hard. I landed in a a small creek, surrounded by sticky red blood and crimson tinted mud. The wet sounds of someone taking their last breath met my sensitive ears, as well as someone whispering to them, soft words of reassurance. I crawled as quietly as I could underneath a bush so that I could see a little, afraid of what the scene would hold. There was a man who had his back to me. His shirt was torn, a slash going down from his left shoulder to his waist, showing a bit of ripped and bloody pale skin, Pantherian skin. I gripped the dagger that I had managed to keep with me in my left hand, wincing when a bolt of pain shot up my arm from a fractured bone in my wrist. Smoothly I swapped hands and got to my feet all in one maneuver, as quiet as the smoke drifting through the leaves. I stepped forward and heard the cat’s words.
“It is going to be okay.” He said. With his back towards me, he was in the way of the wounded soldier. I crept forward a little and caught a bit of the wounded man’s weak statement.
“Tell my sister,” there was a groan and a cut off shutter, “that I love her.”
There was something in me that snapped then, and I suddenly dropped my dagger. With those words, the man died, and a terrible pain exploded in my chest, almost unbearable. The black garmented man leapt over the body, but after that I paid him no attention. All of my attention was on Zane. His long brown hair was a mass of tangles and blood. He had a cut on his right cheek, a wound on his left arm, and worst of all, a jagged cut across his stomach, the most painful and mortal of wounds. I stepped forward, trying hard to keep my reserve, but it was quickly slipping. I looked up at the man who had watched over my brother in his last moments and caught the dark blue to almost black eyes of the Pantheria royal line.
Anger could not even replace the pain I felt. Red tinged tears fell from my darkened green eyes as I faced my sworn enemy with my brother in the middle. Choking sobs rose up my throat, making it hard to breathe. I fell to my knees beside the last of my siblings, stroking back his hair. The pain was still there, resistant to go away, like the burning flames of the forest, it simmered slowly in my soul, leaving behind torment.
“He loves you.” I heard someone say, but when I looked up, no one was there.
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours before we were found. I had laid down beside my twin, my head on his chest, crying until I fell asleep. When I woke, I was in Ares’s arms, being toted back to camp.
“Ares.” I managed to choke out, causing a fresh stream of tears to fall down my mud and blood caked face. “I’m the last Ares.”
All he could do was nod his head. His face was grim, masking the sorrow he felt. My brother and he had been good friends, knowing each other all of their lives. His eyes told it all, though, filled with an immense amount of anguish and suffering, more than likely similar to mine at that moment. I could not even feel my wounds, though I knew they were there. Infection had probably settled in due to the all or mud and other bacteria when I fell. There was like a huge gaping hole had ripped from my chest, leaving nothing but stark emptiness.
“I never got to say goodbye.” I cried, my lips and chin quivering slightly. I turned my face into the hollow of his neck, leaning my ear against his heart to be lulled to sleep my its steady beat.


I would tell you that I was not terrified for my life, but that would be an absolute lie. Heart-wrenching screams of torture echoed through the scorched trees, loud and long, filled with agony and pain. I do not really remember much about the fight, really. When there is a matter of life or dead, and it is your life on the line, fight or flight kicks in. I chose fight, and fight I did. I recall riding into battle on Eclipse, a warrior call in my throat. I saw their shocked faces when they realized that they were surrounded and my brother raced ahead of me to meet the panther prince head on, and from there on everything is bits and pieces.
Now the fight is over, and I suffer only a few wounds. There is a gash along my forearm where a tiger send his claws into me. Somehow the fight had moved from the field to the forest, and during the battle fire from a broken lantern erupted. The woods burned as the night began to fall, creating bright orange and red flames that were still licking their way up the trees. Everything was embers and ashes as I walked through the wreckage. The smell of blood and charred bodies lifted their way to my nose and bile rose in my throat. The warm blood of my people rested here and there where the fire did not reach, and then there was the cool blood of the Pantherian that seemed to want to melt me if I touched it. I was searching for Zane, Ares, and any other of my warriors when a gut wrenching yell rang through the seared forest.
I turned my head towards the sound, but then it suddenly died. Someone else’s life as ended. I stepped over a fallen log, but then I had to leap out of the way of a flaming tree as it was coming down. When I leapt back, I rolled off into a ravine. I rolled over rocks and two bodies, one Pantherian and another Equaddian, before I hit the ground hard. I landed in a a small creek, surrounded by sticky red blood and crimson tinted mud. The wet sounds of someone taking their last breath met my sensitive ears, as well as someone whispering to them, soft words of reassurance. I crawled as quietly as I could underneath a bush so that I could see a little, afraid of what the scene would hold. There was a man who had his back to me. His shirt was torn, a slash going down from his left shoulder to his waist, showing a bit of ripped and bloody pale skin, Pantherian skin. I gripped the dagger that I had managed to keep with me in my left hand, wincing when a bolt of pain shot up my arm from a fractured bone in my wrist. Smoothly I swapped hands and got to my feet all in one maneuver, as quiet as the smoke drifting through the leaves. I stepped forward and heard the cat’s words.
“It is going to be okay.” He said. With his back towards me, he was in the way of the wounded soldier. I crept forward a little and caught a bit of the wounded man’s weak statement.
“Tell my sister,” there was a groan and a cut off shutter, “that I love her.”
There was something in me that snapped then, and I suddenly dropped my dagger. With those words, the man died, and a terrible pain exploded in my chest, almost unbearable. The black garmented man leapt over the body, but after that I paid him no attention. All of my attention was on Zane. His long brown hair was a mass of tangles and blood. He had a cut on his right cheek, a wound on his left arm, and worst of all, a jagged cut across his stomach, the most painful and mortal of wounds. I stepped forward, trying hard to keep my reserve, but it was quickly slipping. I looked up at the man who had watched over my brother in his last moments and caught the dark blue to almost black eyes of the Pantheria royal line.
Anger could not even replace the pain I felt. Red tinged tears fell from my darkened green eyes as I faced my sworn enemy with my brother in the middle. Choking sobs rose up my throat, making it hard to breathe. I fell to my knees beside the last of my siblings, stroking back his hair. The pain was still there, resistant to go away, like the burning flames of the forest, it simmered slowly in my soul, leaving behind torment.
“He loves you.” I heard someone say, but when I looked up, no one was there.
Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes to hours before we were found. I had laid down beside my twin, my head on his chest, crying until I fell asleep. When I woke, I was in Ares’s arms, being toted back to camp.
“Ares.” I managed to choke out, causing a fresh stream of tears to fall down my mud and blood caked face. “I’m the last Ares.”
All he could do was nod his head. His face was grim, masking the sorrow he felt. My brother and he had been good friends, knowing each other all of their lives. His eyes told it all, though, filled with an immense amount of anguish and suffering, more than likely similar to mine at that moment. I could not even feel my wounds, though I knew they were there. Infection had probably settled in due to the all or mud and other bacteria when I fell. There was like a huge gaping hole had ripped from my chest, leaving nothing but stark emptiness.
“I never got to say goodbye.” I cried, my lips and chin quivering slightly. I turned my face into the hollow of his neck, leaning my ear against his heart to be lulled to sleep my its steady beat.


In my dream, it always shifted from one scene to another. The first one was of my and Zane playing in a field with out father. He was in his horse form, a aw-inspiring white stallion. Zane and I were no younger than perhaps five. We were prancing around, thankful to be out of the confines of the palace walls, when Pantherians attacked. That day our father was killed. The