Hunter
an excerpt

She was back, in the small cottage she once called home. Everything about it was unfamiliarly familiar, normal objects that now seemed alien to her eyes and memories. Had she really used that rickety wooden table to set dinner for her and her father? Did she really fill that earthenware with wild flowers she found in the fields on the village outskirts? Was that really the straw mattress she had slept on, tucked away in the shadowy corner? Was that really her father, a cold scowl set between his thick, dark eyebrows? Were those really his eyes, cold and unfeeling, squinted beneath the frown? Were those his lips, set in a straight line except for the upwards, menacing curve? Were those really his hands, large and dangerous, able to squeeze the breath out of a neck? No, this was no longer her home.

She was in a forest, running again. Her legs were tired, weak with exhaustion. Her muscles ached all over in protest. Her empty belly grumbled a warning, louder and louder until she could no longer ignore it underneath the crunch of twigs beneath her feet. It was in the soles of her feet, reaching to the base of her spine, tingling her ears and lips with the vibrations. Only it wasn’t her belly, she discovered, turning her head this way and that, but the growling of a wolf, its face and teeth all sharp angles, its tongue rolling out in a mocking pleasure; it enjoyed the chase, for the fall of the prey was that much mightier. It was a smile that put the chill back in the air, despite her sweaty excursions. Wake up. Wake up. Please wake up! And in that moment, she realized her dream-life had merged with reality.