Feral Heart by Duron Crejaro (distant reading .TXT) 📕

grin. Two more of the pack joined the huge one, confirming that I was indeed stuck between a rock and a hard place. I was sure that more must be nearby. The foremost, the largest, and I guessed the leader, growled in a low menacing tone. As they approached me ever so slowly, they licked their jowls in anticipation, no doubt tasting the fear with each breath. My eyes closed, wondering why I hadn’t listened to my parent’s warnings about the Old World. Now, just like the cat, curiosity was about to end me.

 

Terrified, eyes shut, nearly hyperventilating, I waited. My entire body was shaking. After several tense seconds nothing happened, and I dared to open my eyes just enough to see the pack leader spring from his crouched position, its maw of jagged fangs opened, ready, waiting. I think I screamed. I’m not really sure though. I do know that in that one instant, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. The entire scene played out like some vague faded stop motion film before my eyes.

 

The creature lunged, a deep, chesty roar echoed in my ears. A reddish brown blur, caught the large dog midair. Claws and teeth latched onto it, riding it sideways with the momentum of the collision. The two bodies struck the wall of the building, causing small bits of rock and debris to shower them. The new combatant leapt off its prey and stood between me and the other pack members. It was easily twice the size of the wild dogs, which were themselves of mutant proportions. It was definitely a cat. No, cat wasn’t the right word, this thing was far larger and deadly than the cats I had seen photos of. This thing was huge, sleek, its broad shoulder and muscles rippled with tense rage. Its dark spotted pattern started at the head in close-knit blackish brown spots, only to widen out into larger rosette-shapes along its midsection. Its ears were tucked back, with hackles raised all along its backside as it hissed and swatted an oversized paw at the remaining mutts. The beauty of the scene was not lost on me, nor was the realization that the creatures could simply be fighting over which had claim on me as a meal. I shrank back further into the corner or tried to at least. The dogs bayed loudly at the great cat before shrinking back. Their leader struggled to its feet and limped back to his uninjured comrades, before they all began to back out of the alley slowly, never taking nervous gazes from the beast that had interrupted their meal. My brain was on overload, and still I thought that the end might be at hand. I could feel the darkness closing in around me, as if someone had turned the television off and the blackness was fading into the center of the screen. The last thing I remember before the lights went out was the beast turning towards me, its head cocked to the side. It seemed familiar as I gazed into its eyes. Beautiful I thought as the shadows took me. Beautiful light brown, with flecks of emerald green that seemed to dance with one another, then, I was gone.

Chapter 6: Scents

It was still dark. I was certain of that much when I cracked my eyes open for a split second. With that sensation came the realization that I was aware, and if I was aware then I was somehow still alive. The fear and panic had left me drained, and only the flickering amber light kept me from closing my eyes and relaxing off into peaceful slumber again. I could feel the shining warmth of a fire, which must be where the light that was bothering me was coming from. The memory of green eyes flashed through my mind as I lay there half in and out of reality. Suddenly, it hit me like a bolt of lightning; all the events leading up to my blackout crashed through my mind in a rolling wave of panicked thoughts.

 

I surged to a sitting position, urgently scanning my surroundings. A fearful desperation filled me along with a twinge of disappointment in myself. It wasn’t like me to lose control of my faculties in such a way. Not only was it now well into the evening, but somehow I had made it inside a half collapsed building, in which a fire had been built up. Nearby, half the ceiling had collapsed in, leaving the room half shielded and yet still open to the night sky. The fire was small, but well tended, it let small drifts of smoke ascend through to the sky till they were picked up by a light breeze and washed away.

 

I scooted closer to the fire, attempting to break some of the chill that was wrapped around my bones. Next, I checked myself over, looking for broken bones, and the like. Other than a few scrapes and bruises I was otherwise unharmed. Then, I surveyed my surroundings a little closer, it was an effort in futility however, as of course, being night, everything looked different, and I wasn’t really sure where I was. It was one of the pitfalls of the Old World; there were no street signs, and no light pollution. If that could be considered a downside that is.

 

A noise rose above the crackling of the fire and nocturnal chirps and squeals of animals, the sound of footsteps crunching rubble on concrete. A figure moved towards me, hidden within the shadows of the night. The shadowed figure caused a dull pit to form in my stomach before stepping into the circle of light produced by the fire. The young man of course was the Wylder I had seen recently, and had come to my rescue just hours before. He was carrying an armful of wood, gathered to keep the fire blazing. He dropped it in a pile near the fire before taking a seat across from me, keeping the flames between us as if I were some dangerous animal to be kept at bay. The thought made me laugh out loud. He tilted his head, caught off guard by my mirth. He pulled his knees into his chest, resting his crossed arms upon them as he looked at me. His skin seemed almost golden as the firelight played across his tanned muscles. His shaggy hair seemed darker, and while not unkempt, was allowed to run wild. He seemed less strange as I studied him, less foreign. I had to remind myself that not long ago, this young harmless looking guy had fought off a pack of wild dogs as an enormous cat creature the likes of which I had never seen before. Now though he seemed harmless. His strong chin, narrow nose and high cheekbones matched perfectly with his almond shaped eyes. Those same sparkling green orbs I had seen on our first meeting, then again earlier tonight.

 

“You’re a Wylder?” It came out in a quiet tone, half a question, the other half a statement of fact, “And you. You saved me.” I let my voice drift off.

 

His head cocked to the other side in that same odd fashion of confusion he seemed to wear. “What no questions this time?” I asked, unnerved by his silence. “Not going to sniff me some more?” I began to grow aggravated as he watched me in silence. I’m not really sure what bothered me more, his aloof nature or my helplessness earlier that evening. Maybe it was the fact that he had saved me, and now I felt indebted to him?

 

I began to throw out questions, attempting to alleviate the silence between us. “Well do you at least have a name? Do you know what time it is? How long was I out?” In vain it seemed was my efforts, as he just watched me. I gave up and watched him watch me. The silence was palpable, broken only by the crackle and occasional pop of the fire as it released small embers that drifted skyward like small fireflies before winking out of existence.

 

“Tarin.” A single word broke the silence, causing me to raise my eyebrows at him. “My name,” He added as an afterthought to my questioning gaze while absentmindedly poking at the fire with a stick, causing a spastic eruption of orange embers to rise. “And I’m not a Wylder. Only ya’ll call us that.” I could almost feel the irritation in his voice at the last.

 

“Then what are you?”

 

“What do you care? You haven’t even thanked me for saving you.” His tone was indignant, not that I could blame him, he was right, even if it didn’t appease my irritation.

 

“Thanks,” I returned, letting the steel of rashness free in my voice.

 

He shrugged and stood; everything about the simple movement exuded a grace that was of another world . “Dawn,” He motioned at nothing in particular. “Is in about an hour. Keep the fire going, though I doubt you will need it, most of the dangerous things have retired for the night.” He turned to leave, then paused a moment. “I told you my name. What’s yours?”

 

“Eliza,” It came out almost to softly. “Eliza Blayne.” Then, he was gone.

Chapter 7: The Home Front

Saying my parents were unhappy when I arrived home would probably be the greatest understatement in history. Lucky for me, they seemed to buy my story about spending the night at Cami’s to work on a school project. Their outrage and vehemence stemmed from the fact that it was unannounced and they were uninformed of the situation and had not given their approval. This was one time I was glad that my parents were busy professionals and didn’t move in the same social circles as Cami’s folks. It made it unlikely that they would check out my story any deeper than taking my word for it. As it stood, I got off light I though, with only a weeks grounding to show for it. I feigned anger at the punishment, when I was relishing the fact that I had pulled the wool over their eyes.

 

Dhamon was absent from school this day, but I was so tired from the previous nights ordeal that I didn’t even notice. Cami pointed it out to me during lunch; I shrugged it off that he must be sick and went silent, brooding. After a few minutes of silence between us, Cami leaned in close to me and whispered. “Ok, so