STORY STARTER
Submitted by an anonymous Daily Prompt user.
"Your time is up. Better run!"
Write a story that contains this line of speech anywhere within.
Training of a prince
I ran. Hard and fast and much more unsteady than I should be. It was only dusk, for crying out loud!
His voice echoed through the trees, I always passed through this time of day, “Time is up, little wolf. _Better run_!…or better yet…**_hide_**!”
But I had already began running, I was running as soon as he began the count down. As soon as his beautiful eyes closed. It was like second nature to me. It would be to him as well if they’d switched places.
The sound of warm laughter was the first thing that made my heart leap into action. My heart practically sank as he yelled out from somewhere west of me, “I can smell your fear wolf boy! Surrender!”
I’ll be damned if I surrender to an elf. I stayed silent. Stayed still. Waiting to hear the sound of his steps, maybe his breathing?
When my ears picked up no such sound, my heart sank further, this time in concern however.
“Fuck…did he die?” The words slip my lips in a soft, confused whisper.
Then I finally hear it and it’s directly behind me. Cool hands wrap around my back and I buck and yell as if I had truly been kidnapped.
The elf holding me hostage however just huffed out a laugh, “mmm, Gayle wouldn’t approve of your lack of patience. If I were truly your enemy you’d have perished by now.”
I grumble and pout and finally he lets me go. He takes a few steps forward, pats my head, then turns on his heels as he marches back to the counting post. No doubt expecting me to follow right behind him.
“Please Haven, I don’t want to train anymore. I’m exhausted.”
The taller man simply ignores my complaints and instead, sighs when I reach the post and gives me an almost sympathetic yet overwhelmingly condescending smile. Without faire he turns to the post but does not put his head down to count yet.
His gruff voice startles me after the few tense moments I had to glare at him, “Hiding and knowing how to evade the attacker is imperative to your duties as the bastard son of the king.”
His words light a fire of spiteful determination in my soul and so as he began counting I ran. **Hard and fast and much more unsteady than I should be for dawn.**