The hunters continued. They had awoken with no sign of the other three returning, and Ekatran had made it clear that they were not going to wait for them. Shivana did not totally agree with this, but she would not dare challenge him, ever. Before they had left she sat and watched the sun rise. As she did, she toyed with her daggers, slowly spinning them mindlessly, as she stared into the hot rising sun. Her eyes had glinted with hate, she wanted to kill. It had been too long since she had last done it and animals did not satisfy her hunger. She slowly lifted one of her daggers and placed it against her left hand. Then cupping her hand around it, she cut her self slowly. Blood oozed from her clenched fist, and she laughed. She watched it drip momentarily, then when Ekatran’s command came to leave she got up and went to her horse.
It had been a while now and the cut was forming a crimson scab across her hand. She had done it because she was bored, and she had to hold herself back from attacking that smart mouthed Kherug.
“Stop,” whispered Ekatran, bringing his horse to a halt. The other quickly obeyed his command. “Listen,” they all were silent and listened to the hanging morning air. They heard soft footsteps, and then they quickly moved to the forest.
“Into the forest!” shouted Dorlas. And the galloped off in that direction. Shivana hung behind, her eyes searching the area. She could not see anything, though she knew there was something there. She quickly followed the rest into the forest.
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"...still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message."
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