(Please let me know if you like the story, give me feedback! This is actually a copy paste of a small amount of my 150 pages of content, which I wrote a while back. I'll keep posting if you guys like it.)

Rushing through the forest barefoot, the pack closed on his heels. A skinny boy of only fourteen summers, his face was tan and caked with dirt. A tattered shirt fluttered freely in the wind, the only garment he wore besides the hand crafted leather shorts. His wings were gathered tightly around his back, a dark leathery shroud, black in the moonlight.

The pack was getting closer, and he crashed through the woods, narrowly escaping the jaws of his pursuers. Branches tore at his arms and face, cutting cruelly into his flesh. The scent of blood streaking from his scratches spurred the pack on, bringing them ever closer.

Breath coming in short gasps, Hym dared to glance over his shoulder, his view only partially blocked by his wings. The jembu had set upon Hym as he made his way through the forest he called home. Teeth glinted sinisterly in the dim light from the three moons. Razor edged talons clawed the air, seeking to snag the boy and rend him into fist sized chunks.

Leaping a root, Hym reached desperately for an overhanging branch. By the tips of his fingers, he managed to hold on, and with a pump of his wings, pulled himself on top of the branch. Scrambling towards the trunk of the tree, he hid in its’ leafy bower.

Below, dark shapes crawled beneath Hym. His breath frosting in the chill winter air, Hym leaned back against the trunk, praying that the jembu weren’t strong enough to climb to his place of refuge.  Wood chips flew beneath Hym’s legs, but no reptilian face poked up to devour him piece by piece. Slowly, as the gasps of his own breathing left Hym’s ears, sound returned to the world around him.

Silence greeted him, as the jembu retreated, their prey having escaped them. Realizing he had somehow survived, a mad laugh left Hyms’ lips, a single haunting chord in the silence of night.

Tramping feet greeted the dozing Hym. He woke with a start, his breath coming in a short gasp. The clump of boots along the base of his tree was unmistakable. Listening closely, he realized that a virtual horde of men trod beneath his place of rest. Men spoke, their deep, resonant voices, carrying throughout the night.

They obviously couldn’t see Hym, or they would be attempting to kill him, even as he stared down at them. Hym shrank back against the trunk of the tree, praying to stay unnoticed.  Trying to distract himself, Hym gazed out into the night. The night stared back with yellow reptilian eyes.

Nearly soiling his only pair of pants, he chanted silent oaths to himself. Hym watched the eyes as they spread out, outpacing the men easily, encircling them. As Hym let loose a quiet sigh of relief, the first scream erupted into the night sky. Bunching together, the men drew weapons Hym had only just noticed. Flanged maces, short swords, and double headed battle axes ripped forth from their scabbards.

None of them did the men any good as Jembu swarmed them, tearing them to pieces. As the ranks depleted, the men drew closer, forming a protective knot around a single man. A deep scarlet hood covered the man’s face, but Hym quickly realized it was only red with the blood of his men.  The man lay on his side, body wrapped around some bulky object. As the men surrounding him crumbled, a scream erupted.

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 Piercing, high and soaked with terror, the yell didn’t belong to a man. It belonged to a woman. Slack jawed in horror, Hym could only watch as the Jembu methodically ripped apart any shreds of defense, and then set upon the woman.

Blood flew in the night, and the earth greedily drank it in. Jaws gnashed in the moonlight, blood ran over scaled lips.  The crunch of bone filled the night for what seemed an eternity. Hym found himself humming, a nervous tic he had acquired somewhere.

 Feeling something drip on his hand, Hym squinted in the dim light. Not able to discern what it could be, he resorted to tasting it. Metallic tang filled his mouth, and he quickly spat it out. Wondering where blood could possibly be falling from, Hym looked upwards, into the deepest yellow eyes of night.

Hym jumped to his feet, eyes flying open. Cold sweat poured down his brow as Hym tensed his legs, prepared to run, and nearly fell out of the tree.  Looking around, Hym couldn’t see anything but leaves, branches, and sky. Realizing he had only been dreaming, he relaxed.

Jumping out of the tree he had slept in, Hym flexed his knees and landed easily.  He stood, eyes darting from side-to-side.  Satisfied that no one was around, he walked to the nearest tree and picked a stem covered with Pilka berries. Popping a handful of berries into his mouth, sour and dry filled Hym’s mouth, and he quickly spat. The berries were green, much too young to be eaten. Scowling, he threw the rest of the berries into the underbrush, and walked towards the glade where he had dreamt the men were slaughtered.

Hym walked into the clearing, wondering how his dream had so perfectly rendered it. Eyes widening, Hym saw carnage that was anything but a dream. Nothing remained of the men but bones, rotting innards, and their useless weapons. The scavengers were already well at work on said innards.

Carnbirds (A carnbird is essentially a tiny vulture, about the size of a hummingbird) flitted on their tiny wings, pecking here, swallowing there. Wrinkling his nose, Hym walked further into the clearing, looking through the bodies for the curious figure in red. What could she have possibly wanted to protect so badly?

There was no sign of the woman, but a glinting stone filled the spot where she had been ripped apart. Hym stopped dead in his tracks. Shiny was not good. Shiny typically meant magic, and the last thing Hym needed at this moment was a crazed magi traipsing through his woods.

Hym grabbed a thin blade from one of the corpses. Hym nudged the stone with the tip of the dagger, and then jumped back.  Obtaining no reaction whatsoever, Hym dropped the dagger, and poked the stone. Hym, feeling rather foolish for his caution, reached out and ran his hands over the stone. The stone was perfectly smooth, warm to the touch. A pleasant item to have on cold winter days.

Hym couldn’t see a reason why he shouldn’t take the stone, after all, who would come out here to retrieve a blanket warmer? That would be just ridiculous, and so thinking, Hym took the stone.

It is so often the things we don’t know that make all the difference.