The Tracker's Moon
The night had fallen quick. The sky over the woods was a profound, inky dark, and a virus wind moved throughout the trees, conveying with it the weak cries of far off wolves. Selene, Damien, and her dad remained at the edge of the town, their appearances lit simply by the weak shine of the Tracker's Moon. It was full this evening, creating long shaded areas that moved in the clearing ahead.
Selene's grasp fixed on the blade as she gazed into the obscurity. The heaviness of the cutting edge in her grasp had become both a solace and a weight. The vision of the strange lady actually waited to her — her admonition reverberating in Selene's viewpoints. The revile requested balance. For each life she saved, another would be taken. Yet, she had no way out at this point. The wolves were coming.
"They'll be here soon," Damien said, his voice low. He stood near Selene, his hand laying on the grip of his sword, his sharp eyes checking the treeline. His typical quiet was gone, supplanted by a stewing pressure that set Selene tense.
Her dad, standing simply behind them, looked more seasoned than he had that morning. The type of the day had weighed vigorously on him, and his face was drawn with stress. "Selene, regardless of what happens this evening, you want to pay attention to your gut feelings. The power inside you — it's your most noteworthy strength. In any case, watch out. The wolves will attempt to take advantage of your apprehension."
Selene gestured, her heart beating in her chest. "I get it."
In any case, did she? She wasn't completely certain. Everything felt such a ton greater than her now, like the world was shutting in, and she was remaining at its focal point. The knife murmured with energy in her grasp, a steady sign of the power she used — and the risk that accompanied it.
A branch snapped somewhere far off. Them three froze, their eyes locking onto the shadows just past the clearing. Once more, briefly, the woods was quiet, the main sound the stir of the leaves in the breeze. However, Selene could feel it — the presence of the wolves. They were close, watching, pausing.
"They're here," Damien murmured, his voice tense.
Out of nowhere, from the murkiness of the trees, a figure arose. It was anything but a wolf, however a man — tall, wide carried, with dull, penetrating eyes. His developments were smooth, practically ruthless, and the air around him appeared to swell with power. Selene's breath trapped in her throat as she remembered him.
It was **Ronan**, the alpha of the pack — the head of the wolves that had been hunting her.
"Selene," Ronan said, his voice profound and directing as he ventured into the evening glow. His dim eyes locked onto hers, and briefly, all the other things appeared to disappear. "You've overcome much to confront me. Be that as it may, you ought to be aware, it doesn't need to end along these lines."
Selene's heart beat, yet she constrained herself to persevere. "You've been hunting me. What alternate way is there?"
Ronan's look mellowed somewhat, a gleam of something incomprehensible going through his eyes. "You're correct. I've pursued you. Be that as it may, not on the grounds that I need to. I've been bound to this revile, similarly as you have. My pack — my family — is limited by similar chains. What's more, you, Selene, are the way to breaking those chains."
Damien ventured forward, his blade primed and ready. "We have no faith in you, Ronan. You've killed beyond any reasonable amount to guarantee any sort of recovery."
Ronan's look moved to Damien, his demeanor solidifying. "You misconstrue, wolf tracker. This is greater than any of us. The revile — this perpetual conflict among wolves and your family — a pattern of death and torment will go on until somebody is sufficiently able to break it."
Selene's psyche dashed. Might it be said that he was coming clean? Might there at some point truly be another way? Or on the other hand was this simply one more snare?
"I've been safeguarding my kin, Selene," Ronan proceeded, his voice low and serious. "Be that as it may, in all actuality, we're the same amount of detainees of this revile as you are. You have the ability to free every one of us. Yet, to do that, you should accompany me."
"Accompany you?" Selene's voice shook with mistrust. "How could I at any point trust you?"
Once more, ronan's eyes mellowed, and he made a stride nearer, his voice dropping to a murmur. "Since you are the one in particular who can end this. The weapon you convey — it's the way to both our destinies. I would rather not kill you, Selene. I need to help you. Be that as it may, assuming that you decline, the pack will come, and they won't be so lenient."
Damien snarled softly, his hold fixing on his blade. "We're not going anyplace with you."
Selene's brain hustled, her considerations a hurricane of disarray and dread. Was Ronan coming clean? Might he at some point truly be attempting to free his kin? Or on the other hand was this simply a turned control, one more ploy to assume command over the power she held?
In any case, where it counts, something pulled at her — an inclination she couldn't exactly make sense of. The association she had felt to the wolves, to the wizardry, beat more grounded in Ronan's presence. Furthermore, it was as though, interestingly, she was starting to see the full picture. This wasn't just about her endurance. It was tied in with finishing the revile that had headed them all for such a long time.
"What is it that you expect from me?" Selene asked, her voice consistent regardless of the unrest inside her.
Ronan's eyes locked onto hers, and briefly, there was a glint of trust in his demeanor. "Accompany me. Together, we can figure out how to break the revile — without gore. Yet, on the off chance that you stay here, assuming you keep on battling… more lives will be lost. What's more, the revile will just fix its hold."
The quietness that followed was stunning. Selene could feel Damien's eyes on her, his body tense with outrage and doubt. Her dad observed as well, his face carved with dread and vulnerability. They were sitting tight for her to choose. To pick the way that would characterize their destinies in general.
Selene took a full breath, her heart beating in her chest. She had no clue on the off chance that she could trust Ronan. In any case, the other option — more passing, more brutality, more slaughter — was something she was unable to bear. What's more, where it counts, she realized that this revile was greater than her. It was greater than any of them.
"I'll go with you," she said, her voice firm.
Damien whipped around to confront her, mistrust and outrage blazing in his eyes. "What? Selene, no! You can't confide in him!"
"I couldn't say whether I would be able," Selene conceded, her voice low. "However, I need to attempt. Even if there's only an opportunity to end this without seriously killing, I need to take it."
Damien's jaw gripped, his knuckles white on the handle of his sword. "Furthermore, imagine a scenario in which this is only a snare. Imagine a scenario where he's driving you to your demise."
Selene met his look, her heart weighty. "I'll face that challenge."
Ronan watched them quietly, his demeanor confused as the strain snapped between them.
After a long, anguishing stop, Damien let out a sharp breath, bringing down his blade. "In the event that you're going, I'm going with you. I'm not allowing you to confront this by itself."
Selene's heart expanded with appreciation, however she shook her head. "No, Damien. I really want you to remain here, to safeguard the town. Assuming that anything happens to me — "
"I couldn't care less," Damien interfered with, his voice hard. "I'm not leaving you."
Selene faltered, however before she could answer, Ronan talked once more. "There's simply no time to spare, Selene. In the event that you're coming, we really want to leave. Presently."
Selene looked at Damien, then at her dad. The two men were tense, their overcomes carved with dread and concern. However, the choice was hers, and hers alone.
With a last breath, Selene ventured forward, her blade actually grasped firmly in her grasp. "I'm prepared."
Ronan gestured, his demeanor grave. "Then how about we go."
As them three transformed and vanished into the woods, Selene really wanted to contemplate whether she had quite recently fixed her destiny — or on the other hand in the event that she had at last ventured out toward opportunity.