Six bullets left. I gripped the gun tightly in my right hand and settled in against the trunk of the tree. A cold wind blew across the clearing and into my face, it smelled of snow and ice. A storm was brewing, over the distant mountains. If I was lucky I would still be alive when it reached the tree I perched on. If I wasn’t lucky, well it doesn’t matter does it. I check the revolver again, six bullets gleamed silver in the faint light as the moon rose, bloated and yellow. The first howl echoed across the clearing.
Chimera Writing prompt: wolf
About Me
- Apryl
- An anthropology/Art student dropout from California turned illustrator, turned blogging crafter and geek, with a few stops in between. I live in the middle of England, with my husband (a photographer), and an incredibly industrious and inventive five year old son. I’m busy juggling jewellery making, vintage book painting, occasional knitting (badly), baking, and I mustn’t forget all the blogging. I use everything that I see and dream as inspiration. When I‘m not crafting or in the kitchen I can usually be found with my nose in a book.
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