"Yeah... back away," I growl, bouncing on the balls of my feet and trying to appear ready to fight, even though I'm ready to run. A hint of nervousness seeps into my voice.

"Oh, I don't think we will. You're an easy catch, and we outnumber you. People back home will be pleased when we bring home a werewolf," one of them says, stepping towards me. A weird woody, musky, and earthy smell wafts off him, like he's trying to cover the natural scent of his body.

"You'll regret it. You really will." It's a weak argument, but I'm running out of ideas. How do I talk my way out of this? Maybe Viktor can help...

I shoot a look of desperation at Viktor as I back up slowly. I count about seven or eight people who joined us, making for a very tight clearing. There's almost nowhere for me to go, but I need to put as much distance as possible between me and these men.

The one who stepped forward, clearly the leader, sees my look and grins at me with a wag of his index finger. "My son won't help you, he wants you just as much as we do. Let's make this easy on all of us shall we? You come with us without resistance and we spare your life. If you don't, maybe I accidentally point my gun and fire. How's that sound?"

Horrible, really. How can anyone say that sounds good to when it quite literally involves nearly being killed or actually being killed?

Then again, I can't say that because that increases the risk of me being shot. Humans anger so easily, it's more fun the be sarcastic when they won't threaten to kill you. (Cough cough, Viktor...)

Anyways. Back to the big scary gun punted at me and the big scary man at the other end. All the other men are watching me impatiently, so I nod to satisfy their question. A sense of dread washes over me as I fully realize that this is life or death. I could die tonight, and at the hands of these stupid hunters.

And... a sense of peace as well. Like I know I can die here and now, and I've come to terms with that. I only wish I could've gone home and talked to Ma about it... but it's too late. Maybe if I do end up getting away, and I'll never go into the day-forest again.

The man speaking tersely to Viktor draws me back to the present.

"... kill her. You've been useless this whole hunt, and it's time to prove your worth boy."

It hits me like a smack in the face. This bile being is telling Viktor, a young boy who seems barely even older than me, to kill me. What kind of Pa is this dude??

I watch as Viktor takes the gun with trembling hands and stands in front of me. His body is shaking slightly as he looks at me. His eyes betray fear and sorrow, and I can tell he doesn't want to do this but has to if he wants to earn his father's approval.

Of course, in such a dangerous situation, my brain is hyper-focusing on one thing: his eyes. Want me to tell you about them? No? Well too bad.

At first glance they look just a deep forest green, but they're actually a lot more complicated. The base is the green color, but scattered throughout his eyes there's flecks of gold and brown. The brown in the right eye looks a lot lighter than the left, almost hazel, while the left has a bunch of gold.

Why and how can I tell all this? No idea. Why do I even care? Also no idea.

Now, the flecks bounce around with his eyes as he looks around wildly and lifts the gun. It looks heavy, and I can see the physical strain as he takes aim.

I back up one more step, and try to back up another but bump into the root of an oak tree sticking out of the undergrowth. I stumble, hosing my breath and praying that didn't worsen the situation.

Viktor takes a deep breath, his chest swelling. I close my eyes and brace for my inevitable death by bullet.

At the last second, he directs the gun downward and when he pulls the trigger the bullet creates an explosion of plants in front of my feet.

"Go Raven! Run and don't come back! Just keep going and get out of here!" Viktor yells. I hear him thud between me and the hunters as I turn tail and run.

It feels cowardly to run like this when Viktor clearly did something courageous and needs my help, but I'm not that brave despite what my Ma says. One near-death with hunters is enough to last me a lifetime.

While I run through the forest and repeatedly trip over some weeds, why don't I tell you a story about werewolves? It'll be much more interesting.

Long, long ago, the great wolf Leif Shadowang was the first wolf to become a werewolf. The light of the full moon reflected off a pond and shown upon him, and he trransodkrmed into the hecaeanky creature we know and love.

Many others followed in his footsteps until there was a thriving community of werewolves throughout both the day and night forests.

But when humans moved in, they started dying from being hunted, and are now reduced to our numbers today. The magic of the moon no longer exists.

Now, that was a nice, totally not depressing story to pass the time wasn't it! And now I'm only ten minutes away from my den.

But obviously, since fate can't let me have peace, something happens.

I die. The end.

Fangs and Fates, a Wattpad story.

Word count, 976