The Mating Run by Leeka

Escape

The moment Ettle uttered those words, a knot tightened in my stomach. I watched her grab a makeshift

fishing rod, a look of determination etched on her face.

“Stay Inside, Alina. It’s safer this way.”

Ettie said, her eyes serious.

I nodded hesitantly, feeling the weight of her words settle on my shoulders. Ettle had become a

stranger, a version of my friend entangled with the ominoust threads of the mating run. As she headed

towards the river, a pit formed in my stomach, the silence of the hut growing more ominous.

Left alone, I surveyed the crude dwelling Ettle had fashioned for us. The logs. and branches formed a

protective barrier against the forest’s unknown dangers, yet the very air inside felt heavy with secrets.

My gaze shifted to Elijah’s bloodstain on the floor, a stark reminder of the brutality that had unfolded.

Minutes crawled by, each second echoing louder in the confined space. The urge to flee seized me, but

Ettle’s warning hold me in place. My hands fidgeted, playing with the edges of the map hidden in my

pocket. The lines on the paper seemed like a lifeline, a potential escape route from this surreal

nightmare.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that every rustle in the trees outside held a hidden threat. The forest, once a

place of solace, had morphed into a labyrinth of uncertainty. I strained my ears, half–expecting to hear

Ettie’s scream, but the only sound was the gentle rustling of leaves in the wind,

I wrestled with the dilemma of whether to trust her, my instincts urging me to leave this makeshift

haven. Yet, fear paralyzed me- fear of what lurked beyond the walls, fear of the Ettle I once knew, now

transformed by the Mating Run.

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Escape

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As the minutes stretched into an eternity, I found myself pacing within the confines of the hut. The

anticipation of the unknown clawed at my sanity. My eyes kept darting to the entrance, half–expecting

Ettie’s return, half–dreading it.

A dull ache settled in my chest, a mix of anxiety and regret.

The map crinkled softly in my grip as I withdrew it from my pocket, its contours unfolding to reveal a

tattered landscape of inked trails and markings. My eyes traced the lines, the numbers denoting

Hunters and Hiders scattered across the forest like cryptic symbols.

Ettie’s figure, represented by a tiny number, hovered near the river, a distance. that seemed both

daunting and tempting. A surge of conflicting emotions tightened my chest. Was this a chance to

escape the shadows that clung to our shared history, or a plunge into the unknown that lurked beyond

the boundaries of the map?

My gaze flitted between the crude depiction of our hut and the expanse of forest stretching towards

Ettie’s location.

I knew the risks of venturing towards Ettie, the Hunter whose actions had transformed our friendship

into a dance of uncertainty.

As my eyes fixated on the distance between us, a flicker of determination sparked within. Escape

became a tangible possibility, a choice to navigate the wilds on my own terms. The map, a parchment

of liberation, beckoned me to defy the constraints that bound me to Ettie’s unpredictable actions.

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The urge to flee gripped me, a dance between the known confines of our makeshift refuge and the

uncharted territories marked on the map. The forest seemed to echo with the silent beckoning of

freedom, a freedom that lay beyond the numbers, beyond the web of alliances and betrayals.

My fingers traced the path that would take me closer to Ettie, and the anticipation of this clandestine

journey pulsed through my veins. A quiet resolve settled within me, a resolve fueled by the desire to

untangle the threads of fear that bound me to the hut, bound me to Ettie.

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Yet, a voice of caution lingered. The numbers, seemingly innocuous, whispered tales of alliances and

treachery. The forest, an unpredictable canvas, concealed its dangers behind the veil of trees. The

internal monologue, a relentless narrator, debated the consequences of this imminent decision.

The wind carried a faint melody of Ettie’s distant presence, a subtle reminder of the camaraderie that

once defined our friendship. The dichotomy between the safety of the known and the allure of the

unknown echoed in the depths of the hut, amplifying the weight of my choice.

Mumbling to myself, I found solace in the low hum of my own voice.

The pros and cons swirled in my thoughts, weaving a narrative of uncertainty.

and fear.

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“She could find me,” I whispered, my breath catching on the words as I scanned the map. “What will I

do then?”

The pros teased me, beckoning like sirens in the tempest. Escape meant. liberation from the

unpredictable dance Ettie led us through. The forest, a labyrinth of unspoken fears, promised both

freedom and peril. My fingers traced the pros, a tentative exploration of the unknown that lay beyond

the confines of the hut.

But the cons, like tendrils of caution, snaked through my thoughts. Ettie, despite the metamorphosis

into someone unrecognizable, bore the imprint of our shared history. The cons whispered of the bond

that once held us together, the echoes of laughter and whispered dreams that now seemed like distant

echoes in

the wind.

“Ettie, best friend,” I murmured, the words a bittersweet refrain. The bond, once an unbreakable thread,

now felt frayed, strained by the weight of Ettie’s unpredictable actions. The internal monologue wove

through the pros and cons, a tapestry of conflicting emotions that left me suspended in indecision.

My gaze lingered on the door, a threshold between the known safety of the hut and the untamed

wilderness beyond. The pros, like distant lanterns, promised a path to independence, a chance to

reclaim agency in this unpredictable game. Yet, the cons, heavy with the weight of shared memories,

anchored me to the familiarity

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of Ettie’s presence.

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“Ettie, scary now,” I admitted, the truth hanging heavy in the air. The internal monologue echoed my

uncertainty, wrestling with the fear that clung to Ettie’s transformation. The cons, a reminder of the

shadow she cast, whispered warnings of the unpredictable journey that lay ahead.

As I continued mumbling, the dialogue with myself became a lifeline in the echoing silence of the hut.

The pros and cons, an intricate dance, mirrored the conflicting currents within me. Ettie’s laughter, once

a melody that resonated in the walls, now echoed as a distant memory, drowned by the weight of the

cons that threatened to tip the scales.

The door, an unspoken invitation to the unknown, taunted me. The pros beckoned with the allure of

independence, of breaking free from the clutches of a friend turned stranger. The cons, however, clung

to the nostalgia of shared moments, a whispered plea to salvage what remained of the friendship that

once defined us.

Heart pounding like the frantic beat of unseen wings, I felt the decision resonate within me. The hut,

once a haven, now bore witness to the unraveling of bonds and the emergence of a lone wanderer.

The map, crinkling softly in my grasp, became both a compass and a confidante, guiding me through

the maze of choices that lay beyond the threshold.

My hands, trembling like the leaves in the breeze, reached for the bag. It hung there, a silent witness to

the internal monologue that had echoed within the hut. Biscuits, a humble offering from a sponsor,

nestled alongside the knife – a companion in this solitary expedition.

As I stuffed biscuits into the bag, the echoes of laughter and shared stories reverberated. Ettie, my

friend turned guardian turned stranger, remained oblivious to the impending departure. The cons, like

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shadows in the periphery, whispered warnings of guilt and abandonment. Yet, the pros, those daring

fireflies, illuminated. the path to autonomy.

“This is for the best, Alina. Don’t even think about.”

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Escape

I whispered, the admission a pact with the universe. The bag, slung over my shoulder, carried the

weight of a choice that transcended the boundaries of friendship. I moved with calculated steps, eyes

darting to the door as if expecting it to betray my clandestine exit.

The map, a tapestry of possibilities, guided my fingers as they traced the route. of escape. The

dialogue within me, once a symphony of conflicting emotions, now hummed a melody of determination.

Each step away from the hut felt like a liberation, an assertion of my agency in the midst of this

orchestrated game.

Outside, the forest greeted me with its dappled sunlight and the rustling of leaves. I paused, inhaling

the scent of freedom tinged with uncertainty.

“Finally,” I muttered to myself, the words a soft exhale escaping the captivity of my thoughts. The forest,

shrouded in moonlit mysteries, spread before me like an expansive canvas waiting to be explored. I

cast a hesitant glance over my shoulder, half–expecting Ettie’s silhouette to materialize in the doorway,

but there was only the quiet darkness.

The path ahead beckoned me with a sense of freedom, each step resonating with the echo of

newfound autonomy. The map crinkled in my hands, a tangible guide to uncharted territories, and I

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found solace in its simplicity. The dialogue within me, once muddled and stifled, now emerged with

clarity in the open air.

The forest embraced me like an old friend, Its branche’s forming a canopy of reassurance overhead.

The rustling leaves, a chorus of encouragement, urged me to venture deeper into the heart of the

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unknown. The silence, once stifled by the walls of the hut, became a symphony of nature’s serenade.

“Free,” I murmured, savoring the taste of the word on my lips. Each stride away from Ettie’s dwelling

felt like shedding layers of confinement, a gradual release from the invisible chains that had bound me.

The forest path, uneven beneath my feet, became a metaphorical escape route, leading me toward a

destiny shaped by my own choices.

The air, cool against my skin, carried with It the fragrance of freedom. I walked, not as one escaping,

but as one ombracing the vastness of the forest, eager to carve my own narrative. The distant murmur

of a stream added a soothing

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undertone to the symphony of the night, a melody harmonizing with the newfound dialogue within me.

With each step, the weight of the hut’s confinement lifted, replaced by the lightness of possibility. The

forest whispered tales of resilience, a shared history woven into the very fabric of its being. The

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dialogue, once entangled in the complexities of a transformed friendship, now echoed with the

simplicity of

self–reliance.

I thought about the next few days.

Ettie was like a shadow, always lurking, always searching. I had to be smart, had to stay ahead, or

she’d catch up and who knows what she’d do.

I glanced around, my eyes catching the flickering light of a lone camera dangling from the ceiling. The

air felt heavy with worry as I tried to figure out my next move. The frayed edges of the upholstery

scratched against my skin, but my mind was too preoccupied to notice.

“Okay, Alina, think,” I muttered to myself, my voice barely above a whisper. I needed a plan, a way to

slip through Ettie’s fingers. My gaze shifted to the small window, revealing a dimly lit alley below.

Maybe I could disappear into the night, become just another shadow in the city.

The silence in the room pressed against my ears, making my thoughts echo louder. I reached for the

crumpled note on the coffee table, a cryptic message that arrived like a warning whistle in the wind.

“Stay one step ahead.”

I said, but how? Ettie wasn’t one to be underestimated.

As I journeyed further, the dialogue within me transformed into a quiet contemplation of the possibilities

ahead. The map, a parchment of potential, guided my steps through the labyrinth of trees. The

numerical codes, once cryptic symbols, now charted a course toward self–discovery.

This is for the best.

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I think? Not like I have a choice.

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