The Hunters
My weapon clatters to the ground.
Diving behind the nearest tree, I scan the floor in search of a weapon. A battle-axe rams near to my head, grazing my ear. However, it remains stuck in the wood, with the brute grunting and yanking at it. I take the opportunity, swiping up an arrow, thrusting it straight through his chest. He clutches the arrow, tearing it out, releasing thick crimson with it.
With the creature no longer a problem, my gaze sweeps the bloody area, quivering knees barely able to hold me up. Within seconds, my eyes are glued to a man; 6 feet of pure bulk, numerous tattoos meandering around and accentuating the bulge of muscle. He holds a carelessly wrapped bundle, tucked uncomfortably in his grasp.
I step back, but he reaches me within seconds.
"Mine," he holds my arm in a bruising grip, cradling my unconscious, malnourished sister with his other hand as he drags me along.
