Chapter 4 Goodbye, zeon

CHAPTER FOUR

Jennifer's breath condensed as she watched the werewolf hunters gather around their roaring campfire, the flames casting long, dancing shadows that flickered like specters against the canvas of their tents. The air was thick with the scent of burning pine and the heavy musk of unwashed bodies. Zeon stood amongst them, his face illuminated in the firelight-a face she had once thought kind, now twisted into something harder, crueler.

"Never trust a soul in these woods," Zeon chided, glancing towards Jennifer with a smirk.

The hunters laughed, a rumble of deep voices that seemed to blend with the growling of some distant creature. Jennifer shrank back, her heart hammering against her ribs. She'd trusted him-trusted Zeon with her life-and it turned out he was leading her straight to the wolves' jaws, albeit of a different sort.

"Keep an eye on her," Zeon said to one of the burly men beside him, then turned away.

Jennifer let the sounds of the camp fade into the background as she stared at the ropes binding her wrists, her mind racing. If Zeon wanted her gone, there wouldn't be many more sunrises in her future. Her fingers twisted and writhed, working at the knots subtly while she planned.

"I thought you were different," she whispered when Zeon passed by her again, this time alone.

"Life is full of disappointments," he replied coldly, not meeting her eyes.

She noticed a knife strapped to his belt, its handle carved from bone. An idea sparked within her-a risky, desperate plan. When night fell completely, and the hunters settled into a drunken slumber, she would have to act.

"Maybe I was wrong about you," she said louder, making sure her voice carried a note of defeat. "Maybe I was just another fool lost in the woods."

"Sleep well," Zeon sneered, leaving her in the cold embrace of the night.

As the hours crept by, Jennifer strained her ears for the telltale signs of sleep: the softening snores, the slackened grips on weapons. Her own pulse thrummed loud in her ears, each beat a countdown to the moment she'd attempt her escape.

Finally, the camp was still. With painstaking care, she unraveled the last of the rope and slipped free. She crawled toward Zeon's tent, the ground cold and unyielding beneath her palms. Her fingers closed around the bone handle of the knife, and she cut away the remaining ropes with swift certainty.

"Zeon trusted too much in his own infallibility," she thought bitterly as she stepped away from the sleeping forms of the hunters. He hadn't considered that his betrayal would sharpen her instincts rather than dull them.

With the darkness as her cloak, Jennifer ran away from the camp, every step deliberate, silent. She didn't dare look back, for fear that hesitation would snatch her newfound freedom from her grasp. Ahead lay the treacherous woods, but they were a sanctuary compared to the den of those who hunted under guise of righteousness.

"Goodbye, Zeon," she murmured, the name tasting like poison on her tongue. "Your deceit has taught me well."

Her figure melted into the shadows between the trees, a wraith borne away on the whisper of survival and the promise of vengeance.

The moon hung high in the indigo sky as Zeon and his hunters slowly stirred from their slumber, the lingering tendrils of sleep reluctantly releasing their hold. Blinking away the remnants of dreams, they rubbed their eyes and groaned, their minds still heavy with the weight of exhaustion.

A wave of confusion washed over the camp as the realization dawned on them: Jennifer was gone. Panic gripped their hearts, their breath catching in shallow gasps. The hunters frantically searched every corner of the camp, their shouts piercing through the silence of the night.

Zeon's face contorted with a mix of rage and disbelief. How could this have happened? He had underestimated Jennifer's determination and cunning. His arrogance had blindfolded him to her true strength, and now she had slipped through his fingers like smoke.

The hunters scoured the surrounding woods, their footsteps echoing through the ancient trees. Branches snapped beneath their hurried tread, leaves rustling in protest.

Jennifer's breath came in ragged gasps as she plunged through the dense, thorny underbrush of the dark forest. The moon, a mere sliver of silver, provided scant illumination, and branches whipped at her face as she fled from the snapping jaws and guttural growls of distant werewolf hunters. She could still feel the sting of betrayal; Zeon's eyes, once so warm and guiding, now flashed coldly in her mind's eye, his treachery as sharp as the claws of the beasts he'd led her to.

"Can't trust anyone," she panted to herself, stumbling over a gnarled root. "Not even him."

"Trust can be as fleeting as the wind, young one," an unexpected voice rasped suddenly from the shadowed foliage.

Startled, Jennifer recoiled, her back slamming against the rough bark of a towering oak. She squinted into the darkness where a figure emerged, hunched and cloaked in tattered robes that blended with the night. His eyes, a piercing yellow, held hers with an intensity that rooted her to the spot.

"Stay back!" Her voice was a mix of command and plea, her hands raised defensively.

"Peace, child. I am not your enemy." His voice was gravelly but softened by age. He stepped closer, revealing a snout more gray than black and scars that crisscrossed his muzzle-marks of many battles fought and survived.

"Then what are you?" Jennifer demanded, her heart thundering against her ribs like a caged bird.

"An outcast," he said, spreading his arms as if to show her his harmlessness. "Much like yourself, I suspect."

"Outcast or not, you're still one of them. A werewolf." Jennifer's words were laced with suspicion, the accusation hanging between them like a noose.

"Once, yes. But now merely an old wolf banished by his own kind." His chuckle was dry as autumn leaves. "Too weak to hunt, too stubborn to die."

"Then why should I trust you?" Her gaze never left his, searching for any hint of deception.

"Because, Jennifer, we share a common enemy, and I have no love left for those who hunt our kind with such hatred." He stepped closer, and she tensed, but his next words caught her off guard. "You are running from Zeon's treachery, are you not?"

"How do you know about Zeon?" Suspicion flared anew, tinged with fear.

"His reputation precedes him, and the woods whisper many secrets to those willing to listen." The old werewolf sighed, a sound filled with the weight of years. "I know betrayal's bitter taste all too well. It is poison in the blood."

"Then help me." Jennifer's voice cracked as she lowered her guard, just a fraction. "Help me get away from here."

"Indeed, I shall guide you through these woods, past the hunters' traps and their prying eyes." He extended a clawed hand, not as a threat, but an offering. "But I ask for something in return."