~~~
The village housed no more than twenty, with its wind-battered huts and their concave snow-laden roofs.
The residents were skinny and hunchbacked. They dared not leave their circle around their meager fire, lest the hungry blizzard break through.
It was clear they were not of the North, not used to the harsh, twelve month winter that the land promised, not used to seeing their own breaths disappearing between the snowflakes and into the air. Their noses were full of ice and wood smoke.
They seemed helpless. They were no threat.
But he wanted the land they were standing on, the land they could not use. He needed it. That was reason enough.
The crunch of footsteps, the hiss of breath, the flick of tail, all were concealed, tucked behind a loose row of pine trees that clung to the hillside like the snow to their branches.
If one looked hard enough, they might see the distant light of that lonely village fire, glinting against the fierce metal edge of his battle axe.
With a muffled pop and hiss, his claws pierced through the snow's hard outer skin into the frigid powder below. His tongue slid over his fangs. They were downwind now. It was time.
Behind him, his four companions shuffled closer as they sensed the shift in the wind. They steadied their weapons against their backs, ready to draw.
He emerged through the line of trees, and the others behind him, while the villagers remained blissfully unaware.
"Now."
The ground was merely a victim under his claws, which ripped through the snow with frightening, relentless rhythm. A yell slipped through his teeth and joined the howling of the wind, tossed into the circle with the fire. The villagers turned. Their backs straightened.
He was unable to fight his own momentum as they barreled into the firelight.
The firelight which now danced in forty narrowed eyes, and on the heads of twenty spears.
Snow scattered wildly behind his group, which now seemed viciously outnumbered, as they tried desperately to stop in time. Behind him, his companions were fleeing, sprinting back for the line of trees with such velocity that their paws barely made print.
He managed to pull to a stop, right at the foot of the fire.
His axe flew across the snow, out of reach.
Adrenaline kicked in after that. His body numbed, his vision faded. He felt the force of each hit, but not the pain.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but when he regained awareness, the villagers were gone, and someone was shouting his name.
"You foolish child! You charged a camp with no plan and hardly any reinforcements? Without my knowledge or permission?"
As his vision cleared, he found himself eye-to-eye with his leader.
"Fitch, I--"
"Shut up. Stand. Walk home."
Fitch didn't wait for him.
Clenching his teeth, his pushed himself to his feet, shook the snow from his pelt, and muttered under his breath:
"Valhalla, will you have me now?" ~~~
username: idyll || round 1 - round 2 - round 3 || 500 words
by Ethulai » Thu Jan 31, 2019 4:15 pm 
