I'm a damsel. I'm in distress. I can handle this.

The doe's eyes narrowed as it lowered its head. Her nostrils flared, snorting out hot breath that fogged in the crisp early spring air. Sericea watched it all with wide, acidic green eyes, her bush of a tail tucked firmly between her lean, black-furred legs. She sensed the doe's protective instinct, saw the wobbly-legged fawn nearby, and knew she was on risky grounds. She was trapped- though she dare not turn away from the mother deer. The forest around them still bore the chill of winter, with leftover piles of snow in haphazard drift beneath the sparse pines. A wind rustled through the grasses, setting the shrubbery to a soft whisper. Its touch was icy, raising goosebumps along Sericea's red fur. She wanted to scream. But she couldn’t find her voice. Overhead, she heard the scattering of birds taking flight, but she was too engulfed of the looming threat that had her pinned up against a cluster of trees.

159 / 1500 words
"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"