Masha dashed her way through the woods. Her breathing was controlled, quiet, if only shorter. Her mission was simple, but crucial: warn her grandmother, the village's Huntress and protector, about the oncoming wolves. Masha had volunteered as an emissary despite her mother's worries and complaints. The wolves had been crawling just at the village border, observing, scheming...

Her grandmother was old and not as swift as before, and it seemed she'd missed the presence of her enemies - whom she'd spent her whole life fighting against.

The forest air stank of sweat, hunger, and lust. It hung all around her, palpable. She glared at the trees to her right. She couldn't see much in this falling darkness, except for crude shapes, but she knew wolves were watching her. She sensed it in the crackling of danger floating around, in the oppression she felt on her body, the urgency and thrill energizing her. She'd always been an observing child, but as a teenage Masha'd realized she'd been gifted her grandma's talent: the gift of heightened perception.

And something clearly indicated the situation was worse than the previous ones: how her grandma hadn't perceived this oncoming wolf attack.That is why Masha stared straight ahead, pushing her muscles the hardest she ever could. The dark foreboding weighed heavy in her abdomen, yet it spurred her on faster.

If I can get to her in time... Please!

The large white wooden house's roof caught her sight first. A half-smile turned the left corner of her lips upward. Her heart beat twice quickly, relief short-lived. There was no one outside; her grandma spent most of her time standing guard.

Bayu bayushki bayu

The ol' grey wolf will snatch you up

Between his teeth

If on the bed's edge you sleep

And drag you to the forest deep

Beneath the quaking tree

Masha slowed down, taking in the eerily silent surroundings. Puzzled and guarded, she turned her head left then right, suspecting a wolf was nearby. He probably waited for her to make a mistake, such as lowering her guard, not trusting her senses and intuition. Her powers. 

But an energy emanated from the woods, reaching out to her in dark blood-red tendrils. Vicious and vile. Masha inhaled until her lungs ached with the cold, and she closed her eyes. Focusing on her alerted senses, she noticed an animalistic waft, wet and warm, on the air. And, was that a red spot in her inner vision?

A branch cracked to her left and Masha sucked in a breath. She rushed inside the house, slamming and locking the door behind her. Panting, her stress levels peaking, she didn't even need to see the scene to know. The stench of fresh blood reached her nose as she analyzed the pressure lacing the air, like death's hand reaching out to her.

Masha took a deep breath, then walked across the kitchen and turned into her grandma's bedroom. Even though she was expecting it, the gruesome scene still shocked her to her core. Her grandmother lay splayed like a fallen star on her heavy carved bed. Her bright white hair surrounding her head like a crown contrasted hard against her slashed throat speckled with bits of flesh and drenched in blood. Bile rose up in Masha's own throat but she swallowed it down, turning away for a few seconds. She clenched her fists and shut her eyes closed, dull disgust and fury rang through her. When Masha looked back at her beloved babushka, her eyes trailing down her body to fix upon the pool of blood coming out from her genitals, tainting the white sheets beyond repair. 

Masha grabbed the door frame and leaned feebly on it, her legs trembling and her cheeks streaked with tears. Sobs heaved out of her mouth and she clenched her teeth so hard her jaw seared with pain. Her heat seemed to miss a beat, and it was as though someone pulled a dark curtain over it. Right after the darkness covered her heart, Masha snapped her head up and stood up right. She catches the tall elegantly carved and golden wardrobe from the corner of her eye and a wicked smile creeps up on her lips.

Would it be there? Her babushka’s gear?