Shadow Mountain Inside my Head

She dreamed of Cicero, his patchwork pelt and mismatched eyes. The soft murmur of his voice; the comforting warmth of his fur. Just out of reach, a fleeting shadow at the edge of her vision. He gave her lessons, but only from afar--she could not get to him.

She ran and ran, but fell short, his whispers taunting her as she struggled.

"Not all wolves are strong. Some need to use other skills to kill or maim."

His words echoed in her ears as she woke, having been deposited onto the cold, unforgiving ground. Her mouth was incredibly dry, and she licked famished lips, eyes slowly opening. The pain from her head wound throbbed, and she squeezed her eyelids shut once more, wincing with agony.

What had happened? The last thing she remembered was being under the water, swimming to safety. Now she was here. . .and this was definitely not Blackfeather Woods.

The wind was thin and whistling, and while there were trees, they seemed more sparse than her home. It was also quite chilly, and she shivered, her barely-dried pelt not holding any warmth at all. The dark woman stood above her, and the call she gave was loud and piercing. It split Maegi's head in two--or so it felt like--and she cringed again, whimpering at the pulsing pain in her skull.

"Stop," she croaked, and shuddered. She writhed on the ground, a boneless, helpless creature.