16

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16| a l e x a n d r i a
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Their eyes burn into me—fear from Cara and anger from the two rogues. The rogue who I successfully struck earlier lifted himself up, gazing up at me with the most maddening fire in his eyes. His wound disappeared as fast as it was inflicted.

The shirtless man growls at me and flashes his canines at me with the most roguish way possible. I imitate his actions. This was a rogue communicating with a rogue.

After a few moments, I begin to wonder when this staring contest would end. Tired of this stupid game, I broke eye contact and flaunt my fakest smile.

"So," I begin. "How's your day going, young gentlemen?"

The three rogues look at each other quickly before the shirtless guy responded, "It was great but now that I met you," he pauses and I raise an eyebrow. "It's quite outstanding, if I say so."

"I believe you'd maybe want to take back that statement," I say.

He smirks and takes a step towards me. Cara's eyes dart between him and I in panic.

The stranger cocks his head and questions, "And why is that?"

I nod to the direction behind him. "Look back."

Foolish.

All four of them, including Cara are idiots. A part of me believed that their brain capacity had reached its limit as they aged out of 4 years old.

When I said that, all four of them turned their bodies and snapped their heads behind them, searching for an answer—only to be met by the vast space of emptiness. I almost gasped in disbelief. How could life be this simple?

I take advantage of this and station my already loaded bow before shooting the same guy. This time, the arrow had been tipped with silver (I stole it from the pack's storage). Fortunately for me, silver is a strong poison that will leave said person immobile for a time.

To my demise, though, this arrow only had the amount of silver that would knock out a wolf for only 20 minutes to an hour, depending on how strong the wolf actually is.

It was my greatest of luck that these rogues were not of high position or strong enough to withstand the effects of such poisons.

Like I expected, he drops to his knees before he face-planted on the ground once again. I cringe, imagining the feeling of wet dirt on my face.

Three heads snap to me—two bared their canines at me and extended their claws, while the other darted to me and all over the place, as if uncertain.

Cara looks at me with the most unsettling and doubtful expression that even I couldn't interpret it. Before I could say anything, my eyes catch movement at my peripheral.

'Thuck.' I was quick to process it and completed the motion that seemed indented into my nature, shooting another wolf with precision.

The man groans and clutches his chest as he slowly drops down to the floor.

Easy peasy.

The last rogue dared to not miss one single fraction of a second before lunging to my direction. I almost stumble, feeling startled.

His Little MischiefOpowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz