I was not sure whether it was just my imagination, but I could’ve sworn that I felt more energized. I was about to ask him what was next when I caught sight of his face. He’d frozen, his ears perked up, and his eyes fixed on the trees behind us.
Fear rushed through me that he might’ve just spotted hunters, or even worse, one of their mutants. But then, a few seconds later, three brown wolves burst from the trees.
Bastien immediately surged forward, positioning himself in front of me as he growled and bared his fangs.
“What are you doing here?” Bastien snarled.
“On patrol for conniving hunters roaming our lands,” one of the intruders shot back. “What are you doing with one of them?”
Oh, crap. They think I’m a hunter. My uniform certainly did not help.
“She is not one of them,” Bastien hissed, the hair on his back prickling.
“Who else would she be?” another wolf growled, stepping forward. He had a wide scar slashed across his right eye.
“She is just a girl!” Bastien insisted.
The brown wolves were done with talking. To my horror, the three of them leapt toward us at once. With a strong thrust of his hind legs, Bastien sent me skidding across the grass and rolling into the river. The current immediately tugged me away, but I managed to grip the thick root of a tree that jutted out from the bank. I was safer down here than up there as Bastien took on the three wolves at once. He gnashed and thrashed with his jaws and claws, and although outnumbered, he was clearly the strongest of the four. In a blur of black and brown, one of the attacking wolves let out a groan of pain and darted backward. Where his right ear had been was a gaping wound dripping with blood. Bastien had torn it right off.
This caused the other two to cower back a bit.
“I said she is just a girl,” Bastien seethed.
They looked anything but convinced—still baring their teeth and growling—but it was clear that it was an empty threat. The injured one did not want to lose a second ear, and the other two did not want to lose a first. Besides, they would become men any time now. Day was on the verge of breaking. Slowly, they backed away into the trees. Then they turned around and scampered off.
I had expected my ankle to be positively burning by now. Although rolling and falling into the river had roughed it up, now that my legs were underwater, the cool water flowing against my ankle was soothing. Bastien bounded to the water’s edge, his eyes searching for me. On spotting me, he waded into the river and arrived next to me, allowing me to grip hold of his fur. Now that we were up close, I realized he hadn’t gotten away unscathed. He had a nasty gash in his shoulder, but he did not seem to notice as he returned with me to the bank. Then he said in a low voice, “Now, we must keep moving.”
Victoria
As we continued through the woods, I couldn’t help but ask him if he was okay. His wound was still bleeding freely. He just grunted in response. I guessed it couldn’t have been too serious because it did not seem to hamper his speed in the slightest.
Several more hours passed. Then the trees started thinning and, to my surprise, I realized that we had arrived at the shore. He bounded out onto a long stretch of pebbly beach. From the position of the sun, it seemed to be afternoon by now.
He ran across the beach, his hind legs kicking up a storm of stones, until it gave way to clusters of boulders. As he began to clamber over them, I had to pay more attention than ever. I was forced to ask him to slow down on several occasions because I almost slid right off. Soon, a cliffside came into view. A cliffside that appeared to be pockmarked with cave entrances. Traveling over the last of the boulders, we arrived at a small, even patch of beach that led up to the entrance of a tunnel.
“Keep your head down,” he instructed before we went hurtling through it. I ducked only just in time. The tunnel was alarmingly narrow, and although I wasn’t prone to claustrophobia, I found myself struggling to breathe. The tunnel wound around and around in dizzying twists and turns. I was relieved when we reached the end of it and emerged in an enormous, yet empty, cavern. Here, Bastien stopped short. His breath hitched and his eyes widened.
“How could nobody be here?” he gasped, his gravelly voice echoing around the cave.
“This is the hideout?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I… I can’t understand it. Those humans could not have taken down all of us. I know for a fact that some survived.”
“What if they just went… somewhere else?”
Bastien shook his head. “They wouldn’t have had time to establish another lair in the time I’ve been gone. And this has been our hideout for centuries.” He began circling the cave, even as he sniffed the walls and floors. When he raised his head again, he looked even more disturbed. “Nobody has set foot in here for over a year.”
“What if they just returned to your lair?” I wondered.
“Return to our lair?” he repeated. “After the hunters had located and raided it? Who in their right mind would…”
He trailed off, as though a thought had just struck him. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, contemplative. “You’re right. I should check back there… Maybe they really were so foolish.”
After casting one last look around the cave, he darted out. We traveled back along the sickeningly winding tunnel and returned out in the open.
As he began making his way back over the rocks, I asked, “How far is your lair from here?”