Two peas

Running was the worst thing she could do in that moment. Running marked her as prey. He felt the instinct rear its head as the midnight wolf took off. She was fast, he knew that already. But it didn’t matter. He tore after her, heading through the woods he knew so well as he sought to bring back what belonged to him.

The night was dark, with barely a hint of the moon or stars through clouds that gathered in the sky above them. The woods was a gloomy place these days, and it was like the world itself sought to stand that point out. He didn’t know if Yara intended to escape, or if she was going to stomp through the blighted woods until trouble fell on her head.
Regardless, he would catch her.


"Basilisk"