The Night

What little of the sky Allon could make out, was pink with purple hues. It was either sunrise or sunset…only time would tell which. That he could see that much meant he was in either the west or east wing of the castle. He sighed, both had a well defended gate.

He let his head slump down, the pain he felt from his wound was nothing compared to the pain he felt at being so confined, and that pain a mere ache compared to the one he felt at being taken alive. That last was an error in judgement on his enemies part, one he would happily explain to them once he was free of the collar that bound him to the wall. He would write it in their blood so that they would never again make that mistake.

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Allon smiled as his blood began to tingle, he could already feel the gash on his head begin to close. He didn’t need to see the sky to know that the moon had risen, his body was screaming it to him. Muscles began to flex, straining against the confines of the metal…he screamed in pain and frustration, the metal was silver. He could feel it burn his flesh wherever it made contact. So his captors were not quite the fools he thought them, still they would not contain him, they could not contain him. He let out a growl, then a howl and strained against his bonds in fury.

***** ******* ********

“I hope Suneagle gets back with the wolfsbane soon, I don’t know how many more cycles he can take this,” Alorala said softly, from outside the cell.

“Your brother is strong, he will make it,” Moonhawk said, resting a hand on Alorala’s shoulder. She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

(Word Count 300)