Smiling at the image, she manifested her camera and started photographing it. There was nothing she loved more than capturing nature in its purest forms.
Completely captivated by the complexity of the light playing against the tree, she stopped paying attention to her surroundings. The world faded away as she moved in a large circle, tilting the camera for better angles.
The murky water sloshed around her feet as she moved. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bird take flight. She turned to catch that as well, but as she moved, she heard something. . . .
A low, fierce growl.
Before she could react, a wolf attacked her.
Reacting on pure instinct, Aimee dropped the camera and manifested a long staff. She crouched low, waiting for the attack. But in true wolf fashion, he didn't attack alone. He waited for three more to join rank. By their scents, she knew none of them were the wolves she'd seen earlier at Sanctuary.
These were feral and mean.
True Slayers . . .
And she was their prey.
Aimee twirled her weapon, bracing herself for them. If they wanted a fight, she would and could definitely give them one. Some times they ate the bear, but today the bear was going to take one juicy bite out of them.
Growling and snapping, they circled around her.
She shook her head at their bravado. "Trust me, guys, you don't want a taste of bear. This one bites three times as hard as you do."
It didn't stop the lead one from charging.
Aimee caught him against his side with her staff and sent him flying. The other two sprang forward. She planted her staff into the ground and lifted her body to kick one back before she twirled and used the staff to smack the other against his hindquarters.
He let out a vicious whelp.
"Cry to your mama, Big Bad Wolf. Little Red Riding Hood is about to serve your hide for dinner."
"You think you can take us?"
She turned to counter their leader. "Oh, baby, I can send you all straight to hell." At least that was her thought until four more ran at her.
Odds now . . .
Not so good.
Snarling and snapping, they moved in, slowly, threateningly. As she backed up, Aimee considered shifting forms to fight, but she wouldn't be as fast as a bear. They would have much better maneuverability and that would cause her to lose.
Losing to anyone was something she wasn't about to do.
No, she'd handle this as a woman.
"You know, a better weapon against them would be a gun. . . ."
She frowned as she heard Fang's voice in her head. Yet he wasn't near her.
The leader launched himself.
Aimee crouched and just as he reached her . . . just as she felt his hot, smelly breath on her skin, a large brown wolf intercepted him and sent him flying in the opposite direction.
Fang.
From the image she'd seen in her vision, she knew that this was him. He tore at the throat of the wolf that had initiated the attack against her. Aimee would have continued fighting, but the others backed away in confusion.
A large white wolf who put himself between her and the others transformed into Vane.