That’s all I can hear in every direction as I run as fast as I can through the thick of the forest. Whipping through the brush and ducking under branches as I go.
My bare feet stamp in the soft, moist earth as quickly as my legs will allow. I know it’s inevitable and I will be caught again, but I have to try. I have to get out of here.
I have to leave, I have to run, I have to.
They will have to kill me before they keep me here. This is no way to live, so I would rather die than stay here with them. Not that I am not far off from that based on the starvation and dehydration that they inflict on me and the countless other mates.
Someone help me... I thought.
I finally made it out of the territory, from the faint smell of rot and filth. Seems like I am in rogue territory now... great.
I slowed down when I made it to the edge of a clearing. I looked around quickly, scanning for any obvious threats. I saw none, so I slowly made my way towards the center of the small open area.
As I was walking, I wasn’t watching my foot placement and I tripped over a fallen branch. I stuck my hands out to brace my fall, but I was to late and fell on my face. Ouch.
I sat up and composed myself a bit, and wiped my lip. A single drop of blood was on my finger from my split lip. The fall must have cracked the wound open again.
As I looked up and scanned the area once more, I saw the unmistakeable bright red eyes of the rogues from in the shadows of the tree line. They were surrounding me as I sat in the middle of the clearing.
I looked up high in the sky, towards the full moon. Oh Luna, please. If I am to die tonight, let it be by the rogues and not my mate...