Mated To An Enemy



He quickly climbed to the next branch, tightly holding the tree trunk and breathing softly and slowly. The wound on his arm burned, but he couldn’t afford to pay attention to that right now.

Below him, he could hear the movements of the leaves on the bushes as they scraped against the leathery skin of the monster. The grass that was crushed and ripped up by the taloned feet as it searched for him.

He closed his eyes and tried his best to stay quiet.

It had been an hour since the chase had begun. An hour since he had seen the smoke rising from miles below in the forest.

At that time, he had climbed the highest tree he could find and searched through his binoculars until he found the campsite.

There was a blue-haired man and two children sitting beside the fire. The number of tents behind them made it clear that at least three more people were likely in their party.

Who were these people? They couldn’t have been from Winter. The report he had sent to Alpha Axel would have reached him by now, and the contents would have ensured that no other parties would be sent to Moonguard territory, especially not with children present.

Bustling Bush, just outside of Moonguard territory, would have received the same report even sooner than Winter. So, there was no reason to think they would have come from that pack either.

The scout took a deep breath. They must have been nomads. He had heard many of them had already left Winter and were returning to their wandering ways. But they usually didn’t stay in large groups like this.

They were more aware than most of how dangerous it was to do so.

Still, they were here now, and it didn’t matter who they were or why they were there. What mattered now were the three bat creatures that had also spotted the smoke in the air and were making their way toward the camp.

He had been stuck on the mountain for days. After he had sent his report, he was spotted by the same group of bats that were currently turning toward a new target. It had been a game of cat and mouse all week. Finally, this was the closest he had gotten to being able to go home.

But he couldn’t let them reach the camp.

He pulled the bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. He lined up the shot and waited patiently for one of them to take another step into his line of sight. He set the arrow free, and within seconds it found its home in the leathery arm of one of the bats.

It turned back with a screech, staring straight at him. The others turned as well, and soon they were charging back up the mountain in his direction. It wouldn’t take them long to reach him.

He quickly gathered his supplies into his pack and moved the bow over his shoulder as he climbed down from the tree.

One burst forward from the bush just as he landed on the ground below the tree. He barely managed to avoid the reach of its talons as it swung its arm wildly at him. He shot forward into the brush with all his might.

He ran for a long time. He could hear them behind him for a while, but he had gotten some distance between them at some point. Then, finally, it was enough to keep their interest on him rather than the campsite miles away down the mountain.

Taking a quick break to catch his breath, he tried to listen for their movements. Or for anything that told him where they were. It was at that moment that one of them got the jump on him. It came out of the bush and grabbed his arm, the talons digging into his flesh and tearing.

He gritted his teeth at the searing pain, but he grabbed the knife from his belt and stabbed at the bat’s arm as the beast screeched. It retracted its arm, but the scout did not relent.

He turned and jumped at the monster. He stabbed it repeatedly, using the adrenaline that pumped through his body until the beast was left a lifeless, bloody mess.

Once he was sure the bat would rise no more, he pulled a cloth wrap from his pack and quickly tightened it around his wound. Then he reached down and covered his hand in the monster's blood. He smeared it over the wrap on his arm, hoping it would be enough to cover the scent of his own blood.

Hearing movement in the distance, he turned and ran until he found a tree with high enough branches.

He stood, hugging the trunk and controlling his breathing while the other two bats searched the area below him.

Another hour passed, and the bats had moved their search further into the forest. But the scout waited until he couldn’t hear even a hint of their movement. Until the soft sounds of the woods at night filled his ears once more.

The hoot of the owl, the scurrying of the foxes, and even the soft flapping sound of the bats that flew between the trees catching bugs in the air.

He carefully returned to the ground, cautiously moving through the brush and the trees. He found their tracks. The bats had headed further up into the mountain, toward the mound. He could try to turn around, to head down toward the camp he had spotted.

He would be closer to leaving this place and be able to warn the party as well. But the wound on his arm was deeper than he expected. He needed to treat it before the blood loss caused an issue for him.

It would need to be cleaned and stitched, which he couldn’t do out in the open. Not while there was a chance that the bats or another creature might smell the blood in the air.

He needed shelter; unfortunately, he knew exactly where to find it.

It wasn’t the safest option. He knew that very well. But any one of the empty houses could provide him with the refuge he needed to treat himself. He would only need to be there a short time. Just long enough to clean and stitch the wound. There was no point in risking staying any longer.

He swallowed as he saw the gates to the village. He hesitated for a moment but then took a deep breath. He had been close by the night before, and at the time, he saw no movement, no creatures. The village had been clear.

With any luck, it remained so.