ground hard and then I was sliding. Pain laced up my back as I slid like a kid on a snow day, except without a sled.
Oh fuck, was all I could think as I dropped my camera around my neck and started to grasp at ferns, tree trunks, anything to slow my fall.
That’s when I started to roll. I hit a little rock shelf, went airborne, and when I came down on my left shoulder, something snapped. I wailed in pain and I just started rolling. Like a fucking bowling ball, I tumbled down the mountain, Walsh was screaming my name like a madman and I just kept thinking: How is it not over yet? How am I still falling? My wolf surged to the surface, but the cuffs kept her at bay as I rolled and rolled, until I felt sick and battered and half dead. Pain throbbed and sliced through my entire body as the mountain chewed me up and spit me out.
With a grand finale, my head smacked the side of a rock and everything went blurry.
I cried out as pain laced behind my skull, and I finally stopped rolling, skidding to stop on the ground.
With a shaky hand, I used my right arm to grab the side of my hair, and upon feeling the sticky wetness there, I pulled it back with a whimper.
Walsh’s voice felt far away and warbled. I was confused.
What happened? Where was I? How did I get here?
Fuck, I hit my head.
Oh God, my shoulder.
I focused on Walsh’s voice, something familiar, something that I knew would keep me safe as I lay there and felt sleepiness work its way into my body. A twig snapped, and then a giant of a man, big enough to rival Eugene, stepped over and crouched in front of me. A man about sixty years old stood shirtless with bright blue tribal war paint on his chest and face. A necklace made of tiny, sharpened bones hung around his neck. He bent down and looked at me, frowning.
I was scared of him for a moment. I mean who was this? A Paladin? Had I rolled on to “their” side?
Everything was confusing.
When he crouched down and looked at me, I was taken back with how kind his blue eyes were. Eyes that kind couldn’t hurt me, right?
He reached out a hand to place two fingers at the pulse on my neck and I smelled him.
Wolf.
Dominant.
Magic?
Satisfied with my pulse, he picked up my right, good hand, and inspected the arm cuff, then he leaned down and smelled my wrist, looking back at me wide-eyed, his eyes the color of the waterfall.
“You need to be more careful, pup. I’ve seen the Ithaki drain your kind in less than a minute,” he whispered, looking behind him as if he’d heard something.
Ithaki? Drain my blood? Maybe my head was still concussed, because I was confused about what he was saying. Walsh still sounded so far away, screaming for the guy to leave me alone. I just wanted to sleep. I groaned, my eyelids closing. The man lightly slapped my face, causing my eyelids to flutter open.
“No sleep,” he told me, and looked back up to where Walsh was screaming.
I whimpered as the pain of everything that just happened seeped into my body all at once, and the adrenaline left me. “It hurts.”
He frowned and then nodded. Reaching into a pouch at his waist, he pulled out a small white root. “Chew.” He shoved it in my mouth and I nearly spat it out. It was bitter as all hell, but within a few bites I’d crushed the outside and a sweetness coated my tongue as some of the pain was chased away along with my foggy thoughts.
Oh God. I fell. I fell really bad. The last few minutes were coming back to me now and how badly I’d royally screwed up.
“Get the fuck away from her!” Walsh screamed, closer now.
The man looked over at Walsh sadly and then down at me. “Stupid city wolves. Have you been with them this whole time?” he grumbled, and started to unfold an animal skin from his waist pouch.
Leaning down over me, he lay the animal skin blanket over me, and that’s when I realized I was shivering. He picked up my cuff again and inspected it. “Won’t heal with this on,” he growled, as if he were angry.
What would a random forest caveman wolf have to be angry about on my behalf?
I pointed at him,