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“the dry, frost-soaked grass mercilessly whipped her shoulders, intended to pinch her eyes with prickly stalks, left stripes on her muzzle. the pads of the paws ached from the frozen, sleepy earth, whose stones and sand stung almost to the point of blood, turning the softness of the skin into a kind of stone. the taste of iron bit into her weathered fangs; Geaidu was rushing through the night meadow, and slippery thoughts confused her paws. hoarse breathing scratched the throat, escaped from the mouth. It seemed that the hot steam was curling behind the fortune-teller, winding between thick fescue and rare chaff. Geaidu knew that neither the deer she had killed nor the thick anxiety were chasing her, but something primal did not let her stop, forcing her to throw her paws forward. The claws were worn off from the exhausting run, and the more often they whipped up meadow dust, the more ferocity boiled in the blood, driving a new and new stream of adrenaline into the muscles. Geaidu grinned: she needs more, even more. To release anger, to thin its teeth, to grind into dust. Wolverine, to the pain in her head, dug into the darkness of the forest expanse, until she saw something - a cluster of light, through the veil of wolverine rage giving off flames.
a red, light... and unbearably peaceful phenomenon enraged the beast in Geaidu. tearing the ground with her paws, she jerked sharply to the side, aiming to grab it, destroy it. with each passing moment, the light became more concrete, acquired familiar features. this only provoked wolverine. the enemy has become clearer.
Geaidu rushed into the thick red haze, clacking her jaws. a cold coniferous smell hit the mouth, the fur stood on end from the unnatural cold. awakening. before the exhausted body collapsed to the ground, Geaidu managed to notice ... something. she could have sworn that for a moment the mirage looked at her with a gray-blue, predatory gaze.
wolverine jumped up, looking around. time slowed down, returned to its normal course. Geaidu sucked in the air greedily: the smell of a wolf was clearly in it. but the meadow was peaceful and quiet: it patiently watched the fortune-teller. the insatiable, bloody obsession cramped her paws, the wolverine grinned, lowering her eyes to the ground ... and immediately the muscles on her muzzle smoothed out.
here and there, rowan berries lay next to her, as if they had been carelessly scattered by an unknown traveler. Geaidu bent down to the berries and found out that they were the source of the wolf smell. this is strange... you should never expect good things from "wolf berries", but these were completely different. the witch's instinct did not let wolverine down: she greedily swallowed a handful of red berries at once and immediately felt relieved. the blood cooled, the tension that bound her body was gone, and the thirst for blood dissolved into peace and serenity. Geaidu sank wearily to the ground, burying her nose in the rowan berries.
“thank you, unknown spirit of the Forest, whoever you are,” the wolverine boomed hoarsely and guiltily closed her eyes, “i am sorry for the evil caused by my anger.”
she gathered the remaining berries in her mouth: they will be useful to her on the road. there were still several days of tirelessly traveling to the native forest. and only thanks to the mercy of the Forest, Geaidu could step on it again.
she turned to the black rows of ancient trees and, nodding respectfully to them, rushed away, afraid to neglect the kindness of the local spirit, which, hiding from the witcher's gaze, watched her departure like a red wolf."
Category Artwork (Digital) / All
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Size 3377 x 1091px
File Size 498.4 kB
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