Run, little one, run. Those were the words echoing in her mind as she sprinted through the dense forest, the sound of her pounding footsteps blending with the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. The urgency in her father’s voice fueled her determination, pushing her to go faster, to push past the burn in her lungs and the ache in her legs.
The branches snagged at her clothes, leaving scratches on her skin, but she paid them no mind. All she could focus on was the goal – to reach safety before it was too late. She could hear the growls of the wolves behind her, their predatory instincts driving them closer and closer.
With each stride, she prayed to the gods for strength and speed, for the will to survive. She knew that if she could just make it to the edge of the forest, she would be safe. So she ran, with all her might, never once looking back.
For in that moment, all that mattered was to run, little one, run.
Image by gilmarcil from Flickr.
