Disclaimer: I don't own Wolf's Rain but I do own my writing techniques and OC characters. I will know if you steal from me. Write your own stories or you will never feel proud of yourself. Trust me.
Huntress
Chapter 1
Hunting is pointless (POV Prologue)
Late November, the soft crystalline snow fluttered to the ground in massive amounts of flakes. It turned the dusty brown country road into a white angelic path to heaven...or so it seemed.
The wind gently rushed through the skeleton trees that grew along side this road. This peaceful scene was interrupted by the loud rattling sound of an old rusty blue pick-up truck. Inside was a half-drunken man by the name of Quent.
He, and his daughter in the back, were searching for the wicked animals that destroyed their family so long ago.
Quent looked in the rear view mirror. His daughter was in clear view and seemed to be humming or bored. She had medium length fiery red hair that hid half of her slightly pale face and only showing one of her gray eyes.
She dressed like a boy. Blue jeans and a short orange halter top showing off her well toned abdomen. She was about 16-17 years old and had the most laziest and sarcastic attitude in the world. She sat on the back of the pick-up truck with a knee into her chest as she gazed at the white fluffy sky.
As I sat on the back of Quent's pathetic truck, I thought about my life and how...meaningless, I guess you can say, it is.We, Quent and I, lived in a quiet little town filled with smiling faces and beautiful blue skies. I was also "blessed" with a younger brother and an overprotective mother that would piss anyone off.
Some people found her gentle, some people found her just a wonderful person in general but I knew better. When that day, that tragic day happened, I cried. But not for my mother but for my brother and for all the pain he had to go through.
I don't exactly remember what happened. All I remember was coming home to a once wonderful white colonial house, now covered in fire and ashes.Quent and I went hunting for deer that day...and I never refused a good hunt. My brother was more on the girly side then I was...or would ever be.
At school, the girls would point and laugh at me. Calling me whatever their tiny brains could produce but I didn't ignore them! Instead, I would fight them.
Now normally when you see two girls fight, it's basically all nails and slaps. But as for me, I fight like a true male streetfighter.I've even got in fights with other boys who think they're better than everyone else.
They ask to fight and I accept their challenge and yet, there is always a teacher or spectator that will say the same stupid rule. "Boys can't hit girls!" A rule I absoultely loathe.
Anyway, to put this whole tragic thing in a nutshell.Quent and I came home to a house engulfed in flames and ashes with no one to be found...except for the few wolves roaming around the gravesite of my mother and brother.This is how the old man came to hate wolves so damn much. I personally had nothing against them.
The truck from hell made a sudden jerk to the left nearly tipping over. I ducked my head as we passed through the trees and bushes, braches nearly beheading me.
Every now and then I would get a scratch on my cheek or arm but nothing serious. When the truck stopped, I hopped out of the back and surveyed the area.
Thick emerald forest with pine trees and berry shrubs with purplish mountains that could be seen from a cliff not to far away...I hated it. I mean, I love to hunt but all this fresh air was giving me an ulcer.
There was a slight growling sound coming from the bushes and without warning Quent threw me a rifle. He fired off 3 shots into the bushes and the two of us waited to see what would jump out.
About 8 or 9 minutes passed, maybe he killed it. I decided to take a closer look...bad idea. A gray wolf sprung from the bushes and pinned me to the ground. He/She bared its white teeth and connected its eyes to mine.
I noticed the two bullet wounds on the side of its front leg, I don't remember which one. My gun was too far from my reach and the only ally I had was old man Quent or...
I detected my right arm was free, so I gathered all my strength,anger,and fear and propelled it from my fist to the animal's oral cavity.
Scientific isn't it? The wolf slid in the snow until it hit an oak tree. I was safe now but where the heck was Quent?
Today's Lesson: Rifles are useless when slid out of reach.