Today’s Sharing Sunday piece is a snippet of writing from an only buddy of mine. Jess is crazy talented but needed some coaxing. So leave her some love in the comments. Without further ado, here is her piece.
The Death of a Loved One
The night was silent. He had noticed nearly immediately the abrupt hush that had blanketed over the thicket as he entered. His muscles tensed and his ears perked as he settled into a sitting position, crossing his legs over each other. Bidzil listened intently; his dark blue eyes searched the hollow of the trees for any sign of abnormality. Just as annoyance began to fester in his stomach, and his lips curled into a derisive snarl, Abey slunk from the shadows.
Abey was a rather fetching artic wolf. She was older, age having colored her once pristine white coat a mild yellow tinge. The wolf moved slowly into the thicket, her ears twitching in the direction of the man sitting at the other end of the green expanse. Her head hung low as she analyzed the situation. With a swift bark in the human’s direction, Abey began to pace back and forth. Her green eyes never leaving the human.
Bidzil’s lips curled into defined snarl. He shook his head and uncrossed his legs. The man pulled himself to his feet, his shoulders hunched to mimic the wolf giving a surprisingly natural effect. He was fluid, lanky but toned. I didn’t think you’d show your face again, Abey.
Abey barked again, her tone conveying something of a chuckle. You think I’d let you get away with killing Leotie?
The mental exchange was tensed and familiar. The enemies had known each other for a very long time. Years upon years, lives upon lives, You know that Nodin is near. Bidzil growled, his lips smiling tentatively. It was true; the behemoth gray wolf lurked in the shadows, just out of sight and downwind. Do you have a clear attack? Bidzil acknowledged his life-mate singularly, Abey was weak without Leotie. She would be, regardless of her experience and age. Abey’s power would be set in half, at minimum, the arctic wolf had been without Leotie for at least three seasons. Abey must be feeling the pull of the Great Mother. Bidzil felt no remorse for her, Yes, came Nodin’s eventual reply. Even the darkened and gruff mental communication of his own wolf was jarring, Nodin was truly a powerful source wolf.
While Abey would never bond again, if Nodin died, Bidzil would just find another source to draw from, another mental bond to strengthen to strengthen his self. Bidzil flexed his fingers, he could feel the heat rising and the familiar feeling on the edge of snapping his fingers to ignite the flame. The sinister human hated these weaklings.
I will kill you, Bidzil, regardless of Nodin. And if you don’t watch out you’re going to have the East Wind Pack coming after you. Abey howled, loudly, it echoed through the thicket. It was the only noise present since the encounter had begun save the mild barks and growls. Bidzil wasn’t deterred… until he heard the return howls echo back. East Wind, Bidzil growled mentally to Nodin.
We do not yet have enough power to take an entire pack of bonded. Nodin replied. Bidzil could feel the gray wolf edging back away from Abey. Even if she didn’t know where exactly he was, having the East Wind Pack so close by was too dangerous to risk an encounter. They would have to kill Abey at another time.
Angered, Bidzil let the sizzle in his hand dissipate, his eyes never taken off of Abey as he began to retreat back into the covered woods. Just as Leotie, you will die Abey.
About the Dreamer:
My name is Jessica, I am twenty six years old and I was born and raised in the states of Florida and Nevada with two sets of parents (that’s a very complicated story). I have a Bachelor of Arts degree in psychology, and I’m working on a second bachelor in biology. I always think I know where I’m going in my life, I always seem to have a plan, but then abruptly that plan changes and I have no idea. I’ve contemplated being a clinical psychologist, a clinical neuropsychologist, a neurologist, a paediatrician, a veterinarian… it just seems like I have this whole life ahead of me why am I tying myself down to one objective? That is why I like writing. I can be anyone I want, go anywhere I can imagine. I began writing when I was very young, I showed an interest in making up stories when I was five or so, but I started my first ‘children’s book’ when I was thirteen. It was never finished, a fact one of my mothers likes to remind me of constantly because she’s always been my biggest fan and has urged me to finish at least that book. It’s always been her favourite. I am terrible at finishing things, I never do it. I always feel like there is another world to explore over the horizon so the world I’m putting together gets put on the back burner and forgotten. Not unloved, just temporarily forgotten. I’ve often been described as having the memory of a goldfish… what was I doing here? Oh, look a castle!