patchwork: (𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄.)
𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑺 ([personal profile] patchwork) wrote in [community profile] singillatim 2023-09-10 12:12 am (UTC)

the hour of the wolf — open.

[ Grace is running.

She has to run, because if she stops, or falls, or even falters, the wolves will be at her throat. She'd seen them lurking in the distance, and she'd only had a split second to recognise them for what they were before one of them had started to run towards her, and then they were all following. Her skirts rustle helplessly around her legs as she sprints, her lungs already burning, a stitch in her side screaming at her to stop, to catch her breath. But she can't.

It's stupid to go further into the forest, but she's not thinking clearly now. The terrain under her feet is rough and uneven, branches and snowdrifts threatening to break her ankle or her neck or simply to put a stop to her egress with the mildest fall or stumble. All she has is a head-start, but the awful beasts are closing the gap fast. She skids a little as she makes an abrupt left turn, bare branches whipping past her, but she can see someone in the distance, not so far away, and it doesn't matter who it is. What matters is that she's not alone. ]


Help! Help me! Oh, God, please help!

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