• The wolf stood frozen in the moonlight that peaked through the dense forest. His mouth was set in a vicious snarl, dripping with the blood of Emily's companion. She stared, her face blank, at her friend, his mouth still agape in a silent scream, his clothes ragged, torn, and stained deep red. We were just going hunting, Emily thought. To get food for winter.
    Suddenly rage boiled up inside. This wasn't fair! Her best friend since childhood wasn't meant to die on a hunting trip! He deserved to die, 100 years old, with his children and his grandchildren and his great grandchildren surrounding him. They were only 18, it wasn't fair!
    Without thinking, she lunged at the gray wolf. All she thought of as she tore whatever came within her reach was Gabriell. Gabriell, her best friend, her secret crush since they were 14, the boy who was now dead. His family would never see him again. He would never graduate, never go to college, and never have children. It's not fair!! Emily repeated in her head over and over as the wolf continued to whimper as it slowly and painfully died, under the mercy of a woman blind with madness.
    She stopped suddenly as she realized what she had just done. She saw the bloody carcass of the wolf, felt the blood on her own hands, wallowed in the sorrow and guilt in her own heart. She shouldn't have let Gabriell get so far ahead of her. She shouldn't have killed the wolf, whose matted fur shined gruesomely red and gray in the last moonbeams of the night. She looked once more at the body of Gabriell, bearing the same red reflection of the wolf. His face had been left untouched; it was now paler than the moon, eyes in permanent shock and lifelessness.
    Forget Gabriell, she told herself, attempting to cope with the recent happenings. Gabriell doesn't exist. The wolf doesn't exist. The little town of Miriade doesn't exist. My family doesn't exist. I don't exist...
    The forest. The forest is all I have now. This is my forest.     She continued to deny everything from her life in her head, walking farther north, the opposite direction of Miriade. She had become... the Huntress.