The Journey of a Warrior Continues

A She-Beast in the Forest

He knocked an arrow to his bow and gently drew its dark rope. The aroma of the Hemp fiber filled his nose. He could hear his heart beating in his chest. The forest was silent. He realized that even the insects were alert. The early evening was always full of chirrups. Not tonight. 

The  warrior crouched down next to a thick evergreen bush, struggling to catch his breath. The night was fast approaching. He'd spent the last few weeks surviving the relentless attacks of a large wolf pack.

 He dropped the hood of his rough leather cloak. Putting his hand to his neck, he winced. His last encounter with the pack was earlier that morning. A big Alpha male broke from their ranks, hidden within the trees. 

His hand was warm and damp. His skin stung like hot daggers, as his hand lifted from his wound. The blood was little more then a smear. He exhaled a sigh of relief which was drowned out by the snap of a not so far off twig.

 His eyes narrowed and he focused his attention in that direction. West. About fifty yards off.  The way he was traveling. It Couldn't be the wolves. After he lost them, a few hundred yards back. He broke out in a full run till he reached this very spot.

 Weeks ago he happened on a tavern where he got himself a bow. His supply of arrows helped him keep the Wolves from overrunning him. His arrows needed constant repair. He salvaged as much material as he could and crafted what he couldn't. Some arrows he couldn't retrieve. 

He knocked an arrow to his bow and gently drew its dark rope. The aroma of the Hemp fiber filled his nose. He could hear his heart beating in his chest. The forest was silent. He realized that even the insects were alert. The early evening was always full of chirrups. Not tonight. 

The screaming sound of an arrow tearing through the cool night air filled his ears. Panic swept over him. The arrow  flew inches past him. He pulled himself closer to the bush. He had no shot. The full branches gave way to his weight and he barely lost his balance. He lowered his bow for the briefest of seconds. A second arrow split the leaves and sunk into his shoulder, puncturing his breastplate. 

 Thrown back by the overwhelming pain of it all. A third arrow Screamed past him. He caught his balance and spun about the bush to the other side of it. Crouching once again he sighted his bow. Yards away and closing.

 The pale blue light of the moon broke through the canopy in the distance, and touched the forest floor. 

Thick, dark tentacles broke from the shadows, first. They whipped through the chill air. Branches of leaves fell to the ground in their wake. Great trees groaned in horror. Their trunks creaked and popped as the tentacles wrapped about them. Pulled forward by the massive appendages, a half nude,  She-Beast emerged into the light.

 The warrior let loose an arrow. The pain in his shoulder brought out a growl from deep within. He reached over his shoulder for another of his personally fletched missiles. The screaming snap of another arrow shot past him. He refocused his sight and knocked his bow.

 She was coming fast. Her scream stole the night. The high pitched shriek grated against the warriors already frayed nerves. Her body was propelled past her great tentacles. Soaring through the air, four vibrant, scaly, red wings sprung from her back. A pair of forewings and two hindwings. 

In her hands was a dark bow. She reached for another arrow. The vibrations of her fluttering wings drummed the chorus to her horrid cry.  The darkness fell over her as she moved out of the moonlight and back into the shadows. 

The image of her sharp pointy teeth, seen even at that distance, haunted his sensibilities for only a breath's time. A dark calmness settled over his continence. He had been in this place before.

 In Midithar, the name of this celestial body, She-Beasts are as common in the forest as whales are in the ocean. Experience and wisdom would win this fight. He burst from his cover. His blood covered,  breastplate caught a ray of moonlight. As dirty, from the long journey, as it was. The radiance of light seemed to briefly envelope him.

 He shouted with all the might he could muster. Hot tears streamed from his eyes as the arrow seemed to sink deeper into his shoulder. He let loose as many arrows as he could, as quickly as he could. 

Like most She-Beasts, she gets spooked by a violent, frontal attack. They like to prey on the weak. She fluttered into the canopy. He shot once more in her direction. In moments the leaves ceased their protest and silence stole back the night.

 The warrior lowered his bow. The welcoming sound of a chirrup seemed to ride in on a cool breeze. 

Reviews

[Ookpik]

Hot damn, good piece definitely has the makings for a page turner. There were a couple spots where the rhythm was a little choppy,

"His eyes narrowed and he focused his attention in that direction. West. About fifty yards off. The way he was traveling. It Couldn't be the wolves. After he lost them, a few hundred yards back. He broke out in a full run till he reached this very spot."

don't get me wrong though, still thoroughly enjoyed it! the naming of the creatures She-Beasts gave me a chuckle, im guessing that can be attributed to life experience of some kind?

all in all would love to read more about the world, your attention to detail really made the diffidence for me : )

props

[Rev. Jr]

This one here is my favorite so far. I really appreciate your comment. I felt off rhythm there. I really wanted to plant some seeds for the book I have in mind. Alas you have uncovered a spot i must endeavor to improve in. I think I was rushing myself through that section so I could tell the story swelling in my head. I think in the future, when I feel that moment happen, Ill pause and come back to that spot, after i get the rest of the story out. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to see that.

I think most writers at least loosely base their stories on some life experiences. My Stories are indeed plagued with a second meaning. I'm a firm believer that, " For every Physical action there is a spiritual reaction. I try to translate that onto paper. The story unfolds in my head and I need an outlet. So here I am.

The world I'm writing from is a fabrication of mine from my youth. In my twenties I created a mass topical view of the continents on poster board. Through that decade I had various artists touch different spot. In my 30s I started to lay town and create kingdoms. The stories started to unfolded as I used an index card as a character profile. I amassed a large collection of characters. I hadn't published a single thing. It was my own personal thing. Divorce happened. I lost it all. That world was Bloodworld. Although that has been a devastating loss for me. I will not be silenced. Im glad you enjoyed the story. Im 40 now. This is a new decade. In my 40's I started publishing...

[Zyle Christian William ..]

Wow that is very creepy, but i like how it ended, though it leaves room for worry and anxiety! nice cliff hanger!