Vois - saga continues - Writing And Poetry Blogs

Part 3:

For the third time he awakens only to find himself alone and cold. The cold a fimilar reminder of his true nature. Unfeeling and uncaring, but a small bit of warmth persists deep within him. Was it the remnats of his savior trying to purify his darkened soul or was it the thought of someone or something caring for him. How many days had he laid helpless. Even more troublesome was how close where the hunters that had been chasing him? Had his savior rid him of this menance or had she only delayed the inveitble. Hunger begins to stir in his stomache...food he thinks to himself as a devilish grin draws itself upon his knarled and broken lips. The hunted has now become the hunter. Just then the smell of sweet tender flesh difts in the air and wafes across his nostrils. His gapping mawl begins to slavate at the thought of warm blood filling his mouth and tender flesh dancing on his tongue. The continued thoughts of pleasant screams of his victim prom him into action. It didn't take him long to fine the source of the smell. A young maiden mindlessly pick herbs in the woods. Her smell is sweet and ripe and it causes his hunger to grow that much more. His over whelming hunger causes him to forget his caution in persuing prey and leaps into the clearing fangs and claws beared. As he sails into the clearing after the young maiden a volley of arrows rip deep into his flesh causeing him to stumble and squirm about. A trap...the hunters had set a after him being saved and had counted on his natural need to feed. Again the volley of arrows ripped their way deep into more of his fleah. Fighting against the pain he brings himself to his feet and begins to slash his way throught the surrounding hunters and on to freedom. Once clear he begins to run the arrows ripping his wounds open even further. The smell of blood is thick in the air...his blood, warm and thick, streams of it flowing like miniture rivers, matting his fur and his clothes. Tree branches break onthe arrows causing more pain and blood to flow from his body. Mindless and ragged he runs on the sound of his pursuers fading in and out. Night begins to approach...how long have i been running he wonders. The night is quite and dark occasionally the sounds of barking dogs would penetrate the quite and tourches would pin prick the ensueing darkness and yet he runs on. Eventuall he knows pain, loss, of blood and exhaustion will soon over whelm him and then he will finally find peace in the eternal dark of death. Suddenly the deep darkness adn quite of the night is broken by a hundred tourches and barking dogs. He is surrounded...he sighs a quick breathe of relief...finally death and peace. The pain of a hundred sword brusts through his body as the hunters strike at him time and time again. How soon till death he wonders when suddenly the forest if lite up as if it where day and a shadows walks from the light it is his angel come once again to save him. Only this time things feel different as if she has come to aid the hunters. He launches at her fangs and claws poised for the kill but she sweeps him away with a simple movement of her hand. Bloody and bruised he slams into a near by tree. She continues on past him into the hord of hunters and begins to hack and cut away at them....

to be continued

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