Blunt nails penetrate through the peeling bark, filching from the tree its brown coat of armor. The rigid planks splinter to hundreds of smithereens, giving way in compliance to the volatile force propelling Welkin’s assaults. Beneath her insubstantial wake the loam upturns in dirtied clumps, staining the disturbed alabaster in swathes of muddied browns. She is tunnel-visioned, dead set on her aimless endeavor of wreaking havoc upon the innocent pine. Anger, reddened and ugly, sends flecks of spittle flying shamelessly from her gaping jaws which snarl embittered at the resistant wood.
But then…
Through the frenzied thrumming of her heart, of the throbbing whine within her lobes, a voice- indistinct and seemingly far-off, grapples for her attention. The familiarity in those honeyed words beckons her leafy eyes to avert in submission to Adelaide’s coaxing tune, settling upon her arriving figure.
”What’s wrong?”
Sullied by flecks of grit, Welkin’s lobes flatten promptly against her skull, cringing inwardly at having been seen in such an emotional state. She’d had no clue Adelaide had been lurking so close to her own whereabouts.
The blonde was improving at moving undetected. Had it not been to Welkin’s own detriment, the noble may have granted a kernel of praise to the guileless maiden.
”Nothing is wrong,” she sputters, protesting against the tremulous quiver that threatens to erupt from her voice. The sudden and soft touch from her gentle companion sends a jolt of electrifying shock throughout her tainted canvas. Starved of such attentive touches, Welkin embraces the abrupt moment of comfort, even if it is fleeting.
Thank you.
”Someone is coming.”
She can feel the corded tension running taut within Adelaide’s diminutive structure, the subtle prickle of her uplifting fleece that stirs at her throat. The sudden rush of cold air, permeating through the bubbling warmth in her chest, prompts her motionless body to movement. Indistinct and muted by enveloping shadows, a burly figure lumbers through the surrounding wood. The hefty thump, thump, thud of steadily approaching footfalls can be detected within the snow-coated earth; tremulous quivers from deep within the soil that galvanize nearby foliage to haphazard action.
Vacant, beady eyes are the first telltale sign that peep from the undergrowth, followed suit by a titanic form of mortifying musculature. The surrounding undergrowth bends and bows in the bear’s wake; submitting to the will of the ghastly beast, which imposes its rearing figure over that of the wolves.
Welkin has never felt so small and insignificant.
Adelaide!
The blonde’s words cycle repetitively within her frightened noggin- not strong, not agile, not quick.
Lying dormant, some primal instinct within Welkin roars to life- maternal and unrelenting. It ensnares any instinct to flee, to run and not look back.
”Adelaide…”
This time her voice is trembling.
”Get out of here.”
The bear is mighty in structure and impossible to beat in matters of physical prowess, but that divine strength brings with it its own set of drawbacks.
Welkin is quicker.
The noble positions herself as a shield to the blonde, her molars peeping in a defensive snarl.
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