Athelyna

Athelyna listened to the tales of old, wondering just like the other boys and girls if there were really creatures like her grandmother described. She thought it would be magical to meet up with one of the furious beasts of the forest, curl her fist and pop them on the nose. They would fear her. She knew they would. The sound of her father's voice pulled her from the story she was weaving in her own mind and she sighed when she heard her grandmother stop talking.

"It is time for you to go home," her grandmother Beatrix said, a look of worry falling across her face as she realized the sun had set. Athelyna quietly rose from her place on the floor and walked obediently to her father's side.
"My kiss, girl," her grandmother called out and Athelyna quickly ran over to give the wrinkled soft cheek a tender kiss. She wrapped her arms around the frail body, hugging her tight.

When Athelyna returned to her father's side, she found her red cloak held out to her. She slipped it on, once more feeling the love of her grandmother surround her. "Always wear the cloak, girl," Beatrix called and Athelyna dutifully nodded her head. She stepped out into the night, with her father holding her hand tightly. They walked the worn path together. Tonight though, her father seemed unsettled and Athelyna had to hurry to keep up with him. Her feet began to catch on loose roots that helped to make up the path and eventually she fell, crying out as her palms dug into the rock. "Father!"

Athelyna's father stopped to pick up his seven-year-old little girl and hurried through the forest. The young man felt death at his door and tried to outrace it. A growl seemed to emerge from the darkest pits of the forest and Athelyna screamed as a pair of yellow-green eyes suddenly appeared behind her. She saw the claws reach out and she felt the air from the blow caress her cheek. Her father screamed in agony, the sound high-pitched and deafening to Athelyna's ears. Suddenly she seemed weightless as the hold her father had on her grew slack and she fell to the ground. She cried as her cloak of red became covered in dirt and the rocks on the path cut into her skin.

"Stay on the path!"

Her father screamed and turned to face the demon that had struck out at him and his daughter. Athelyna saw the gaping wound; her father's ribs and spine were exposed to the moonlight that filtered into the woods through the treetops.

"Papa!"

"Go! Stay on the path!"

Those words were the last that Athelyna heard as she watched her father's neck become wrapped in a thick-furred claw. His body was lifted high in the air and as Athelyna scrambled to her feet she saw the snout of a wolf rip into her father's throat. She turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. The screams that poured from her tiny lungs continued for three more hours as she lay in her bed, her mother fretting over her.