The sun always rises faster than I ever do.
The quickening sound of twigs snapping continues as I leap through the forest, running from someone, -or at least- something. The moon shines bright and the forest is filled with creatures and vegetation of all sorts. An owl hoots every few minutes, but still I hurry. The moon is full and as bright as ever, casting vivid shadows of trees. I can hear paws pat across the forest floor behind me. I can tell by the pattern that the thing has four legs. Four legs.
I wake up from the vivid dream sweaty and out of breath, as if I had actually been running for my life . I inhale air quickly, and exhale just as fast. My various scraps of bedding are tangled and on the floor, and abundant memory still haunts me. My short brown hair is soaked with sweat, along with my forehead, covered with beads of liquid.
I’ve had those dreams ever since I was attacked. The atrocious teeth marks are still healing, beginning to show as a scar, in between my elbow and my shoulder. A partly concave arm is just what I needed. The bite, well, I’ve been able to keep it a secret.