Shapeshifter's Moon

Prologue

Prologue


Blood.


         The air was thick with the scent of it.


         It drew her in, calling to her. She sniffed the frigid air, hungry for more, though the cold burned her nose and lungs. She moved forward, softly, inching her way to the smell of death. She placed her feet carefully, listening to the soft crunch of the glittering white snow, hoping that it would not give away her presence. She stopped, lifting her nose once more, detecting the direction of the delicious scent. The thought of it warmed her chilled flesh. She pressed forward, her empty stomach urging her on with each cautious step.


         The forest around her was grey and desolate. The afternoon sun was blocked by thick, dark clouds. Some trees stood tall and barren, devoid of any signs of life, while other trees still clung to their needles, defying the harsh winter they faced. She had seen the thin, ribby wolves eat their own dead out of desperation for food. This was the hardest winter that she had encountered in all her years in the forest, but something had made a kill. Something was dying, and she intended to get her share. She paused at the base of one of the tall conifers that dotted the wood, her fur catching on the rough, grey bark. She sniffed the air, jets of steam coming from her nostrils as she breathed. She was getting closer.


         Her stomach rumbled angrily, a sharp pang twisting in her abdomen. She continued on. Gnarled, intertwined branches sat on her left. They were the all that remained of the few berry producing bushes in this section of the wood. She had heard the humans call it the Dark Forest, claiming that it was alive with evil or elven magic that would keep you lost forever in an ever-changing maze, until you succumbed and died. That is provided the various beasts and monsters didn't find and devour you first. She had scoffed at such an idea, but it kept most of the humans away, and those that came never went in very far, and that suited her just fine. She lowered herself closer to the ground, inching forward against the corpses of the bushes. She moved stealthily, keeping just far enough away from the brambles to not catch and snap a twig. Her ears suddenly caught the sound of metal slicing though flesh and bone. She zeroed in on the sound and inched closer. The smell of blood was in every breath she took. Her prey was nearby. She circled around a tall, thick, silver barked tree and spied her quarry.





         He knelt over a deer, blood encircling them. It glistened in a wet crimson, a shocking contrast to the sharp white snow, with wisps of silvery-white steam rising into the cold, crisp air. She licked her mouth and hunched down as low as she could to the ground without actually laying down. Her stomach wrenched in her body again, but she ignored it this time. Humans could be very dangerous, but then again, so could she.


         She watched him as he skinned the animal. His forearms were covered in blood up to almost the elbow, and he used the sure strokes of a man well versed in butchering game. He stopped, pushing the long wavy locks falling into his eyes away with his upper arm. She hid behind the tree a little more, obscuring her own vision to ensure that he did not see her. She needn't have worried however, as the young man went diligently back to his task at hand. Her natural curiosity overrode her desire to eat and watched him work for a time, until he pulled the hide free from the deer. She spied a thick, fur-lined leather coat laying in the snow beside his kill, a beautifully carved longbow resting on top of it. He had come to the forest to hunt, of that she was sure, but humans do not come to this cursed wood and that piqued her interest even more. She had unintentionally crept forward, snapping a twig underfoot as she did so.

* * *

         The sharp snap of a dried twig shattered the silent stillness of the forest.


         His head whipped up at the sound. He had been afraid that some starving beast would be attracted to the smell of his felled deer, and it appeared that his fears had come to light. He caught the flash of black as his hunter moved back behind the girthy tree in front of him. He felt the hammer of his heart in his chest, and his breath came in quick short bursts. His father had told him on their many trips to the forest that there was magic here and if you respected it and its inhabitants that you would always return home. He drew a deep breath, letting the stinging cold sharpen his senses. He waited a moment, but when he saw no more movement ahead, he sat back on his heels and spoke calmly to his watcher.


         "I see you, Guardian of the Forest. Allow me to take the meat I need to feed my family and I promise the rest is yours." His voice was deep and even. It surprised even him. "Why don't you come out where I can see you better?"


         He stared ahead, watching the base of the tree for any movement. His heart thudded a staccato against his ribs as he waited on his gamble. It seemed to take forever, but slowly his watcher stepped out fully from behind the tree.





         The cat was one of the larger ones that he had encountered in his travels, but this one was very lean. He could see that the beast was hungry. Its black coat hung loosely from its stomach and shoulders, but he could still see the power in the animal's muscles. The panther stalked forward gracefully, its tail curling and flicking as it walked closer to him. Its eyes bored into him, as though the animal was truly seeing into his very heart and judging him. As the cat approached, he could see how the panther's eyes started bright green at the pupil and faded out into a golden-yellow. He had seen eyes like that before and he instantly calmed at the pleasant memory.


         The cat stopped a foot away from the head of the deer, while he sat near the rear of the deceased. He remained perfectly still, waiting to see what the big cat would do. To his surprise, and relief, the animal sat down, curling its tail around huge, clawed paws. He blinked in shock at how calmly the cat sat there watching and waiting. He eyed the cat once more, but it made no move to attack. Satisfied, he went to work again, slicing off chunks of the deer meat and tossing it into the skin that he had removed previously. Once he had enough to feed his family for a few weeks, he began cleaning himself and his dagger in the clean snow behind the butchering site. He would glance at the cat, sitting there like a regal woman, and quickly turn back to finishing up. He did not want to wear out his welcome in the forest.


         His father, Lord Henrik Targyn had taken him to this forest several times over his twenty-four years. He was a firm believer in the tales of magic and monsters, and taught him to respect the forest and the creatures within it. 'You are entering their home, son,' he would say, 'if you want to make it out alive, respect their house.' They ventured deeper than even the most seasoned hunter and have seen sights that could take your breath away. The initial area of the forest was indeed dark and dank, perpetually bathed in fog, but if it allowed you deeper, toward its heart, it showed you wonders that you could find nowhere else.


         The cat huffed, growing inpatient he assumed, and hurried back into his long leather coat. He wrapped the meat into the skin and ran a long, sturdy stick through it to make a rucksack that he could carry over one shoulder. He bent over to grab his bow from where he set it leaning against a tree so he could pull on his coat, and took a couple of steps back.


         "The deer is yours. Thank you for sparing me this day. If I can I shall repay you." He bowed out of respect and reverence for the panther and took a few more steps back, away from the deer.


         He watched as the cat slowly stood and closed in on the remaining carcass. The cat's yellow-green eyes never left him as it slid forward, its muzzle kept close to the ground. He nodded to the cat and turned and walked away. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the cat tentatively sniff the meat before sinking long fangs into the deer's flesh. The whole time, the cat never broke its gaze on him. He kept moving away, retracing his steps back to where he had initially entered the Dark Forest. A final glance backward and the cat was fully engrossed in its meal, all thoughts of him gone, he was sure.


He blew out a breath of relief. He had been judged and lived.