The Hunt

©2003 Elizabeth L. Clark

The night was like velvet, winds soft and cool, lightly scented with the tang of sea air. She stood alone, facing the majestic moon as it rose full and ripe above her.

Long raven hair swirled around her slender face, teasing and caressing her sweetly formed body. Eyes of emerald glowed in the light, gleaming with some inner fire. Her skin shimmered with the dampness brought by the sea mist.

As the moon reached its peak she crouched down, growling softly. Her flesh rippled as it changed. Back went her head as she howled in pained pleasure as her body shifted. Where once a young woman stood, a sleek female wolf had taken her place.

She howled again, calling, commanding. Soon others joined her, all waiting their chance to greet her. She let them nuzzle against her, knowing they needed the reassurance. Then she pulled away, a series of snarling barks signaling the time to hunt.

Off they went on silent feet, noses picking up the scent of prey. She led them, eyes sharp, ears pricked forward. The night wore on as one after another they took down their prey, leaving nothing but splatters of blood in their wake.

When sunrise approached, they vanished, going back to the mundane world. She stood alone on the beach, raven hair acting as a cloak. She smiled as she walked away, knowing the hunt would go on as the sun set and the moon rose.