It weaved between shadows, caressing its darkest shades as it moved. The uniformity of its color was what drew his eyes, pupils dilated from the natural darkness. Strips of moonlight helped ease the difficulty of his venture, but the night was still a dangerous time to wander with its lack of visibility.
Slowing down to a stop, Miles scanned his surroundings. Infected, he was getting used to. Humans, he found, were rather noisy when the rest of the world became quiet. He didn’t consider himself any expert in stealth, but every time he stepped out here and explored, he was becoming that much more used to its changes in sound, temperature, and overall atmosphere. Sometimes it disturbed him; to be scared of what lay under his skin was nothing like being scared of nature and its fearsome power.
Shifting his hold to cradle the shotgun in both hands — oh fuck, the weight made his shoulder throb — Miles looked about for that dark mass between the shrubs and trees. Listening almost to the point of being painful, he finally heard it. The long exhale from deep lungs. Then came the eyes, a roll of hot amber peering from the shadows.
Miles leveled the barrel at the… whatever it was, and waited. His left arm trembled, muscles straining to keep the position. He forced himself to keep the gun straight, tugging it back up when he felt the tip dipping down.
It wasn’t clear what was staring at him. The height of its eyes were low, but that didn’t mean a damn thing. For all he knew, it was crouching down. If he was staring at something of massive volume, a shotgun wasn’t going to help him. He didn’t think he even had the energy to run. He could be wrong, the threat of imminent death did wonders, but all his efforts were focused just on holding his weapon steady.
True to form, those eyes shifted up, nearly coming square to his. Miles knew even if he tried, he wasn’t going to win a fight like this if it came down to one. “Christ…”
Left arm shaking, he couldn’t keep it up anymore and lowered his one defense. The creature, beast, whatever it was took its time revealing itself, slipping out of the darkness into the light.
“Oh fuck—” He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but a giant black wolf wasn’t it. Its massive body was swathed in muscle, stretching and coiling with every step forward. Its head was held low, but Miles felt so much smaller. That large mouth could wrap around his leg and bite it clean off.
Keeping still, the hairs on the backs of his arms and neck stood on end. A chill unrelated to the biting winter weather froze the blood in his veins as fear locked his joints. Run, don’t run. Run, don’t run. Infected and humans suddenly seemed so easy. The Walrider, which stirred in his head, watched through his eyes with rapt attention.
Don’t move. The wolf diverted its path, choosing to circle him. Soft puffs of white played in the air as it breathed, sampling his scent — maybe trying to figure out if he tasted like chicken, for all he knew. Still, Miles remained in his spot, his own movements only to keep the beast in his periphery.
Coming full circle, the wolf paused, its large paws silently pressing down on the snow. How the hell it didn’t make a sound, he didn’t know. This thing could kill him without him even knowing it was there.
Miles met its gaze with difficulty, fighting against the crackle in the back of his head as the wolf’s stare bore deep into him. It weighed him, judged him, and with a low huff, dismissed him. Miles hesitated, the muscles in his back cinched so tight it hurt. As those golden eyes met his, a low open warning woven into its gaze.
“Alright… Got it. Shit, thanks for not eating me.”
He shifted holds on the shotgun, strapping it. He angled to the side, not willing to give the wolf his back as he retreated. He could’ve sworn as he was leaving the beast was once again casting judgment, but he didn’t stick around to figure out what the verdict was. Time to go home.
