The Cold (Part 2)

Cyrun, was hunting when she heard that evil laugh again, she'd heard it 3 moons before, but this time it was louder, closer. She raised her hand to the bear fur on her shoulder, and a shiver ran up her spine. She'd hate to come face to face with the person who owned the laugh, that horrid, bone shaking laugh. She was alone, as she didn't fit in with the others in her clan; only the mage seemed to take any liking to her. She tried to make friends at clan meets and she found success at times, but not often.

As Cyrun was about to go back, empty-handed, a rabbit sped past her. It was fast, but she was faster. The lush oak spear, with a blue-slate head, came down; and the rabbit was no more. She flung it over her shoulder, said thank you to its spirit, and went back to camp.

Sayth sat in a tree, watching Cyrun. The girl obviously couldn't see him, hidden in all the leaves. She had caught a rabbit and was now making her way back to the camp. She was very pretty and he wanted to talk to her but he knew she may not hold a liking for him. He was also afraid she would be one of those horrible people, the kind you didn’t know to be horrible until you got to know them.

His thoughts drifted back to the laugh they had heard. That laugh had scared him and Cyrun seemed to know what it was. He jumped down from the tree, landing lightly on his feet.

"Cyrun," he called jogging to catch up with her, "Do you know what that laugh was."

Cyrun, had hoped that Sayth had seen her catch–she was proud of it–and if he'd seen it he might have been impressed? He was the only friend she had, and the one she secretly liked, a lot. When he ran up to her and asked her about the laugh, she got all flustered and hot, Hoping she hadn't gone red, she replied.

"Umm, well... Hi! I saw this man three moons ago, near a fire, and he did the same laugh, he looked evil, and I could feel the presence of a demons near him, but... I don't know what he's up too, shall we go see?"

She was excited about the idea of going to seek this strange man, and even more so to find an excuse to be with Sayth. They had met at a clan meet last summer, and had been friends ever since.

Sayth smiled. It seems that Cyrun likes me a little, he thought, but maybe that was just his heart hoping she felt the same as he.

"Alright, let's go and fin..." a mournful howl interrupted him, His eyes, almost at once, filled with tears, but he couldn't let Cyrun see him cry. He rubbed the moisture from his eyes and quickly made up his mind.

"We need to find the owner of that howl," he said, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him with a quiver, "Come on." He started to jog, hoping Cyrun would follow.




Asmeen shivered. She was freezing in her tribal clothes, designed for the heat of the Lion lands. She turned to her companion, "So, are you sure we're not lost?"

"Just, shut up!" Jakar retorted. "I know exactly where we are..." He was getting annoyed, they had been walking through the foreign forest for nearlly a day and he was hungry. He was just about to sit down when he spotted something ahead. As he strained to see, an evil laugh rang up through the trees.

Asmeen, on edge, turned to Jakar. 'What was that?' She whispered, thinking of demons.