Page 7 of Unleashed

She followed a path worn by years of hunting and foraging trips, pressing deeper into the woods. Shafts of golden morning sunlight broke through the canopy to cast a surreal glow on the forest floor and illuminate patches of undergrowth. Everything seemed so peaceful. Had she not known better, she might’ve allowed herself to be lulled into complacency by the beauty and serenity surrounding her.

She kept her senses alert as she traveled, including the one Miss Dana had called hersixth sense; she’d be able to detect the mental projections of nearby animals before she saw or heard them, in most cases.

She made camp a little before the sunset, using long branches and leaves to create a small shelter. When that work was done, she sliced off a chunk of dried meat and slipped the end of the piece into her mouth. She rewrapped the remaining meat in the purple leaves that would mask its scent, returned it to her bag, and lay down under the shelter, sucking on the meat until it was soft enough to chew. No matter how many times she ate it, she always appreciated the meat’s smoky, spicy flavors.

As much as Nina longed for the warmth and comfort of a fire as night fell, she knew it would be a mistake. The flames would scare away small critters and some of the larger beasts but would serve as a beacon for some of the most dangerous of Sonhadra’s predators, treeclaws and shriekers worst of all.

The thought of such dangers — which she’d brushed aside so foolishly — struck her hard.

Why am I doing this? What am I proving by going alone?

Now that she’d stopped and had time to think, she knew her decision to journey to Utopia alone was reckless. Her confidence in her survival skills was no guarantee of safety. Even her father’s people, who had lived in these lands for untold generations before Kelsharn’s arrival, had known better than to go it alone — and they’d been bigger and tougher than any human.

Why had she considered this a wise decision?

I didn’t. I just wanted to prove I’m not a coward. I just…wanted to findsomeone.

Whatever her motivations, there was no excuse for her stupid choice. She was only proving a willful disregard of everything her mother and father had taught her, and she loved and respected them too much to allow this to go any further.

When morning came, she’d go back home. If she wanted to test herself, she’d do it sensibly; after her parents returned from Corfoha, she’d ask them to travel to Utopia with her. The trip would be safe, and she’d have two people alongside her she could rely upon when she faced the torrent of emotions and memories that awaited her at the end of the journey. If she succeeded in overcoming that, she knew Quinn and Orishok would allow her the space necessary to meet some people…

Once she finished eating, Nina pulled out her blanket and positioned her bag behind her. She spread the blanket over her body and laid her head atop the bag, curing on her side.

She closed her eyes and let the sounds of the woods lull her to sleep.

* * *

A piercing shriekstartled Nina from sleep. Her eyes widened, and she was blinded by the darkness before her vision adjusted to the faint moonlight seeping through the leaves overhead. A chorus of answering shrieks echoed between the trees. Her body hair stood on end as a chill spread through her limbs.

Shriekers.

Too close. They are too close.

Her breath fled her lungs in a rush. She curled her fingers into the grass beneath her.

The snapping of branches and the heavy rustling of leaves nearby was thunderous in the otherwise quiet forest. A beast-mind crashed into Nina’s senses, momentarily overwhelming her. Ravenousness gripped her, flooding her body with rage, dominating every thought. She needed to feed. Needed blood, meat, bones.

Nina thrust up a mental shield, deflecting the primal, intrusive instincts. There were at least four of the creatures in the woods around her, one of which was incredibly close — and a single shrieker was danger enough.

She released a silent breath through parted lips and carefully crawled out of her makeshift shelter, doing her best not rustle the vegetation beneath her. As quietly as possible, she returned her blanket to her bag, slipped the bag’s strap over her shoulder, and took hold of her spear. She rose slowly.

A deafening, shrieking roar cut through the night air. Nina carefully turned.

A shrieker stood not thirty feet away, its pale skin aglow beneath a shaft of moonlight. It was an adult, likely as long as Nina was tall.

Nina froze, eyes rounding and heart skipping a beat. More shriekers called in response to the first; they were a bit farther away, but one of Orishok’s lessons came immediately to mind —if you can hear a shrieker, it is too close.

Flashes of red pulsed on the sides of the beast’s neck as it sniffed the air. It opened its jaw slightly, and its throat vibrated, producing a soft, undulating clicking. A cold sweat broke out on Nina’s skin. How long before the others came? She stood some chance against a single shrieker, but a pack?

Climbing a tree could buy her some time, but hungry shriekers were amongst the most determined creatures on Sonhadra; they’d find a way up. That wasn’t even considering the treeclaws, many-limbed predators that prowled the branches and would be drawn by her body heat.

She just needed to get to the river. It would mask her scent, and the roar of rushing water would confuse the shriekers.

Why was I so stupid? Why did I think I could survive this?

More clicking sounded beyond the nearby trees, and the undergrowth shook. She was running out of time.

She took one step back, then another, and another, keeping her movements slow, and tightened her grip on her spear. A gust of wind whistled through the branches, rustling the leaves as it swept past her — directly toward the shrieker.

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