RUBY'S STORY
I watched as blood slowly rolled down the side of his face.
Neither of us moved.
We simply just stood there.
It was as though the air itself had gone still.
The birds I had heard singing around a while back had gone mute.
My chest rose and fell rapidly.
I began to panic and then I held my ground.
I wasn't going to feel bad for something *he* had done.
Maybe now he would understand exactly what I thought about wolves who hunted innocent creatures for sport.
His fingers slowly moved to the cut above his brow.
He looked at the blood.
Then he looked at me.
Those grey eyes became dangerously calm.
Somehow that was far worse than anger.
"You threw an arrow at me?" He asked in a very cold voice.
I rose a brow. "I should have aimed lower."
His jaw tightened.
