Velli
Dream extends her hand to meet mine. That look in her eye is familiar. When I was stuck underneath that pool of ice, she had the same expression. The sharp whistle cuts through us, and it hurts this time. My throat goes raw. Dream collapses flat on the ground. Her back bounces up and down in desperate, futile attempts to bring oxygen into her lungs.
You should have drowned.
I should have drowned. This is the same thing, and all I’ve accomplished is to put Dream in danger.
The whistling stops.
The pitter-patter of animal footsteps starts.
I find myself on my stomach. I have to lift my face and turn to see what’s walking toward us.
The shadows thicken into wolves. They are as real as Dream and me. I can tell from the indentation of their paws in the grass, how they crush dirt with every step, how the drool coming from their mouths flattens blades. My every instinct makes me want to toss Dream over my shoulder and leave, but I’m too weak. All I can do is watch them, the nine of them. Restless.
A big black one rips into the ear of a brown one of equal size. It’s like their walk toward us is taking too long. They want blood now. The brown one snaps back at him. The black one snaps again, and both plod forward to refocus on us.
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To the far left, a white wolf lingers behind the pack and stays low to the ground, butt in the air, paws digging into the soil. Eyes lock on Dream, who stares at them with apocalyptic realization.
Deer in headlights, Velli. That’s all both of you will ever be. Helpless witnesses to your eternal misery.
The others in front of me bare their teeth and growl low. Their hackles rise, ready for war. The white wolf still slinks by along one side, getting within jumping distance of Dream. The ones in front are out to tear me apart, while the one to the side is out to get a quick Dream-sized meal. The white wolf takes another step forward.
I find my energy. I leap over Dream and punch the beast in the nose. Getting in a defensive stance, I bark at it. Anything to make myself scarier, bigger, anything to make it think twice before it eats Dream.
It barks at me, as fierce as the rest of them now. They’re all barking. I bark back. Then they stop. Their hair still bristles, and the wolves whistle.
Oxygen flees my lungs in large, loud gasps. Maybe I’m gasping, maybe retching. Maybe I’m enduring an ugly combination of both. I collapse onto the ground. The creatures advance toward me and Dream. Dream, I can’t reach her. Fate lies on his side, hand raised above his elbow, head propped on his palm in a picturesque swimsuit model pose. His smile blocks my view of Dream. The wolf’s wet jaws open above me. Dank, foul-smelling saliva plops onto my neck. The wolf snaps.
I float. I’m a ghost now. No, not a ghost. I’m being pulled by one of the wolves with its mouth.
Like a wolf drags a dead rabbit into a cave.