The sun had retired along with the villagers for the night, in its stead was a large, orange full moon.
The trees rustled with activity. The wolves were starved for blood after failing to consume -aggie-'s daughter, and were hopeful for a successful kill tonight. Little did they know that the hunter was closely following them. When the wolves moved, so did the hunter with the finesse gained from years of experience so as to not be heard.
As the wolves traveled closer to the village, the smallest of the three wolves began to lag behind. The other two looked into his eyes, and saw them stricken with fear. Unable to verbally communicate in their present form, they gave him a look to ask what was wrong. He looked behind himself and their eyes followed. Followed to the hunter who stood there with crossbow in hand.
They scurried for the trees and began to climb them at a snail's pace. 3-Clawed foot after 3-clawed foot. The hunter couldn't help himself. He laughed at this new breed of slow, predictable wolf, and fired his crossbow.
He heard his bolt make contact, and heard the almost human-like cry of the Weresloth. He felt satisfied with himself. Little did he know that he had only impaled the foot of the creature. Everyone survived
The Deadline for tomorrow will be 6:00PM Central Time, because I only just get home from school in 24 hours, and would like to devote time to develop the story.
The trees rustled with activity. The wolves were starved for blood after failing to consume -aggie-'s daughter, and were hopeful for a successful kill tonight. Little did they know that the hunter was closely following them. When the wolves moved, so did the hunter with the finesse gained from years of experience so as to not be heard.
As the wolves traveled closer to the village, the smallest of the three wolves began to lag behind. The other two looked into his eyes, and saw them stricken with fear. Unable to verbally communicate in their present form, they gave him a look to ask what was wrong. He looked behind himself and their eyes followed. Followed to the hunter who stood there with crossbow in hand.
They scurried for the trees and began to climb them at a snail's pace. 3-Clawed foot after 3-clawed foot. The hunter couldn't help himself. He laughed at this new breed of slow, predictable wolf, and fired his crossbow.
He heard his bolt make contact, and heard the almost human-like cry of the Weresloth. He felt satisfied with himself. Little did he know that he had only impaled the foot of the creature. Everyone survived
The Deadline for tomorrow will be 6:00PM Central Time, because I only just get home from school in 24 hours, and would like to devote time to develop the story.