Page 9 of Faun Over Me

She’d been hobbling around the woods for an hour, trying to clear her head and figure out which trail would take her back to the camp. She should be focusing on disturbances in the brush, listening for the blare of a horn or the laughter of human and inhuman voices, but all she could think about was fox fur, a pale blue sky captured in wide eyes, and soft curves.

“Gods dammit.” She smacked her crutch against a tree, dropping her head back with a groan. Not like the camper … counselor? She was teaching those kids, albeit poorly, so she had to be one of the counselors. She certainly didn’t look like a teenager, and Gods knew she didn’t feel like one.

“Not helpful, brain,” Cricket muttered.

Still, it wasn’t like she was helping matters any, standing there staring after Cricket with a look of … longing. That’s the only way Cricket could translate that expression—soft lips parted, eyes wistful, her shoulders dropped in defeat. She’d expected anger, maybe even disgust, when she’d looked back, and the stricken, wanting expression she’d gotten instead had scrambled something in Cricket’s head. All she could think about was red hair, blue eyes, and how easy it would have been to sink into the girl’s body and just … stay there.

“Think about other things,” she told herself. “Like this trail. This trail could clearly use some work. Why did they even put it here?” She gestured to a matted, you’d-miss-it-if-you-weren’t-looking-for-it path jutting into the woods as if someone else were present to hear her diatribe. “That deer trail offers way more cover. It’s like these humans don’t even know how to find trails, much less know how stupid it is to hold a class in the middle of one. At least it’s not raining, that would suck. Then I’d be hobbling in the mud on a trail without cover, which is just dumb.”

A twig snapped. Cricket froze, ears jolting upright. She scanned the trees for any movement or shadow out of place. Dust motes and tiny gnats hovered in sunbeams. A slight breeze rustled the leaves, and a quiet shuffle told her a rabbit was nearby, but otherwise, all was as it should be. She relaxed, easing into her hobble and keeping her thoughts to herself.

The roads had to re-open soon. Once they did, her cousin would be back, and they could head to Green Bank and begin Cricket’s petition for the family to relocate before they were forced out.She’d already lost a day to her stupid ankle; how much longer before the sale was finalized and the trees were cut down?

A flicker of shadow had her stopping again, staring intently into the wood. Her ears twitched, swiveling to catch any sound. Nothing. Not a whisper of wind or the shuffle of critters in the undergrowth. Even the marching band on the field had gone quiet, leaving the woods still and calm.

Too calm.

Cricket hitched her shoulders, the down on her neck prickling at the sudden feel of eyes on her back.

“Oak and ivy, you’re being ridiculous,” she whispered to herself. “It’s probably that human girl. Woman. Whatever.”

A twig snapped as if in reply, a shadow twitched, and every prey instinct took over. She bolted, discarding her crutch in favor of running full out. At the first step, white-hot pain shot up her leg. Stars burst in her eyes, but the panic was all-consuming. Branches groaned, and leaves rustled furiously at her back. There was something in the wood. Something that had her scent, and Cricket had no idea where to go. Was the camp to the left? Did she take a turn on the trail?

Oh, Gods.

She couldn’t remember which way she’d come; she didn’t know these woods like she knew the woods around Green Bank. She was lost and being chased, and she couldn’t even run.

Every step was a nightmare, her speed hindered by the sprained ankle and split hoof. Still, she darted through the trees, leaping over tiny runnels in the forest floor and skidding under branches, gritting her teeth against the pain as tears streamed from her eyes. She stumbled over a loose stone, grasping for anything to keep her upright.

Thorns bit into her palm, and Cricket could have wept for relief. Thorns sucked, but their bushes were thick, sturdy, and predators hated getting caught in them. Dropping low, she scuttled into the thicket, biting her lower lip to keep from crying out as sharp pinpricks tore her borrowed shirt and drew blood.

Heart pounding in her ears and ankle, Cricket curled into a tight ball, blinking away tears to keep an eye on the wood. The rustling rose, and a stream of rabbits and rodents darted past the hiding place seconds before a massive, furred paw slammed into the ground. Heat and musk filled the air. Musk and a fresh wintergreen scent at odds with what she was seeing. Unable to scooch forward, she squinted through the thick branches, catching glimpses of a broad, muscular back covered in dark fur—humanoid in build, an inhuman for sure.

It let out a low, rumbling growl that Cricket felt in her bones. Claws dug into the dirt as the creature’s paw twisted, scoring the ground.

A wolven?

She craned her neck, trying to see more clearly through the thick, thorny patch. It was too tall, too broad to be any wolven she’d ever seen. A bear shifter, maybe? Did they fall through with the rest of the creatures from her home world?

She had no way of knowing. How would she, when she’d been secluded in Green Bank her entire life on this insane earth?

The distant blare of an electronic bell drew the creature’s attention. It spun around, the movement revealing the pale orb of the moon hovering in the morning sky, and sent a rush of musk and wintergreen into Cricket’s face. She slammed a hand over her nose and mouth, eyes burning and nose tickling. A sneeze built, her nose twitching furiously under her filthy palm, and right when she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it back any longer—

The creature darted into the wood, back the way it had come.

Cricket sneezed in shock, blinking rapidly and ready to scurry deeper into the thorns when a new sound caught her attention.

“Hello?”

Her ears shot forward, catching in thorns, and she whimpered, smoothing them back before pressing a hand into the dirt and leaning forward.

“You dropped your crutch!”

Gods dammit.

It was the human girl. Woman. Whatever. What in the hells was she doing here? The creature couldn’t have gotten far, and Gods knew the idiot counselor was easy prey.

“Hello?”

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