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Re-write of Chapter 4.

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AALIYAH’S POV

As the fangs came into the clearing, I listened to what they were saying before I attacked.

“I say we give up.” A gray fang said in his gravelly voice. “We’re not going to find the girl. She snuck into the Deeps and killed twenty of us and snuck out again. Who’s to say she won’t find us before we find her!”
I knew the Wingfeathers were probably looking at me, but I wasn’t paying attention. I slid a throwing knife out of my sleeve and waited. When the fang was directly under me, I threw the knife. It hit the fang with a sickening thud and he crackled into dust. The fangs yelped and looked around. I slid my bow and quiver from behind me and knocked an arrow, but before I could shoot one of them spotted me.

“It’s her!”

I squeaked and let the arrow fly, and I watched with agitation as it missed completely. I slid my bow on a branch and dropped to the ground, pulling my daggers out of my boots. The fangs–I counted about five–hissed and snarled at me. I sized them up, strengths and weaknesses. Two green fangs, two bat fangs, and one grey fang, as the other one was turning to dust on the forest floor. I tensed, about to pounce– then an arrow whizzed through the air and killed Greenie No.1. I wheeled in surprise. Kalmar was out of hiding, and had knocked another arrow.

“Look out!” He yelled, and I spun around to see Bug-Eye No.2 (2nd Bat fang; in my mental picture of a bat fang, they have bug eyes) about to throw himself on me. I yelped and whirled my daggers in his direction. He went poof, into a cloud of black dust. The other fangs looked at Kalmar nervously.

“It’s him.” One whispered. “The Wolf King. Only–” He sniffed. “He’s not a wolf anymore.”

Wolves, kings? I had no idea what they were talking about, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that I needed to defeat these fangs, get the Wingfeathers out of here, and get back to my normal life, before anyone found out my secret. Because my secret was important, and something that could not be shared with anyone. Something that would destroy the life that I had put together. What was this secret?

I was a wolfwalker.

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Yeah, yeah, I couldn’t resist. Wolfwalkers are Irish legend, and there’s a movie coming out about them (or it might already be out; I don’t know) and they kinda caught my imagination. What is a wolfwalker? They’re people that turn into wolves when they’re asleep. Pretty cool, and I thought it would contrast nicely with the whole fanging/melding process that the Wingfeathers have had to deal with. The wolfwalkers in my story are going to be a bit different than the Irish legend. I didn’t think about adding this in until recently, and I’ll probably look at this in the morning and say this was a terrible idea, but, bear with me. I’ll try not to yell “BURN IT! BURN IT!” when I see it again. Until tomorrow, fellow featherheads!

Au revoir et bon nuit, mes ami! (It’s french, means: Bye and good night, my friends!)

~Kylie