Chiara - written by desol
Shifting uncomfortably in the undergrowth, Chiara looks out into the night. Emptiness gnaws at her stomach and mind, but even the thought of lifting one heavy paw sends her reeling onto her side. The ache of bitterness washes over her. With a heavy sigh, she resigns herself to another sleepless night of reminiscing about her long-lost pack.
She can’t remember how many moons it has been since she awoke, whimpering in the light of dawn. A bitterly cold morning brought with it the terrible sight of her father’s too-still body. The morning breeze ruffled his pale fur, but his once-warm coat felt like ice against her paws. Just the night before, he had sworn to stay with her through everything, no matter what. He had been the last surviving member of their pack, and he reassured her often. He told her stories about the ruinous deaths of the werewolves. He theorized that their pack’s tragic streak was only a continuation of their ancestors’ own fate. “It’s a wolvine effect,” he used to murmur, lapping gently at her ear. “Not your fault. Never.”
Beautiful fantasies don’t last. As more pack members died in treacherous accidents, Chiara knew that something was wrong. Still, somehow, her father found it in his age-wizened soul to forgive her. She remembers how alien his corpse looked in the daylight, like an inanimate object. Guilt stabs through her chest. She did that to him. It’s all her fault.
A rustle in the trees draws her amber eyes.
A figure picks their way carefully through brambles, sniffing the air with delicacy. Chiara’s breath catches as she recognizes another wolf. For one frozen second, everything she misses comes rushing back: warm fur brushing against her side, gentle licks, playful wrestling in the mud. But quick as a flash, the nostalgic euphoria disappears, replaced by pure panic.
The wolf is one shaky paw away from a hunter’s trap. Busily sniffing for prey, they are completely unaware of the danger right in front of them.
With no other choice, Chiara begins to howl. The stranger jumps back, avoiding the cruel jaw of metal gaping in the undergrowth. With a frightened yelp, they run away.
So be it. Chiara knows the rumors that haunt this place, knows that her howls have become stories to frighten travelers. Still, if she can save just one more life… so be it.