This may or may not be the entire chapter. Sorry about the cheesy ending, though... I wasn't sure how else to wrap it up. sweatdrop I'm gonna be honest, this whole chapter is a bit... odd. I think it is, anyway, so I'll probably revise it later on... Lemme know what you think. Mmmmyup...
~Chapter Three~
The Busy Season
Just a few hours before sunrise, several quiet, urgent voices roused Shamira back to consciousness. She blinked and lifted her head, listening closely.
“Humans…four of them… camping in the northwest woods… they have weapons…” The wind spirits told her softly.
Shamira practically growled. Spring was when the hunters typically became more active. Obviously, this year was no exception, and the season had only just begun. With a sigh, she looked over at her mother, still sleeping soundly, then turned and headed northwest, following the wind.
About an hour of traveling at a light gallop brought her to the edge of the human’s camp. The four of them were sleeping on heavy blankets around a dying fire. Shifting to her human form, she approached quietly. There was a chance these men were after different game, and she wouldn’t do anything until she knew for certain.
Barely making a sound, she stepped over one of the sleeping men as she began to look around the small camp. One of them had a crossbow lying near him, but that wasn’t enough to condemn them. She knelt down to search their saddlebags. The first yielded nothing, but the contents of the second sealed the men’s fate. Inside she found a large bundle of silky hair, easily recognizable as unicorn, as well as a golden horn.
Shamira shook her head in disgust and closed the bag, regarding the men carefully. Because there were four, she would need to use a different tactic to get rid of them. Killing
the(m?) all would not be the most productive thing to do, unfortunately. Tapping her chin, she looked between them, noticing one still had a dagger on his belt. He would do.
Carefully stepping back over him, she knelt down and brushed her hand over his face. He appeared to be fairly young, which was a pity, but his life was forfeit the minute he’d helped in slaying one of her kind. The young man shifted in his sleep, but didn’t fully wake. Again, she brushed her knuckles across his cheek, slowly drawing him out of his sleep.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open with a sharp intake of breath. Shamira stepped back quickly, waiting for him to re-orientate himself. As his eyes darted around, they soon landed on her, standing just a few feet away, watching him with a small smile. He gasped, sitting up quickly as she came closer and knelt down once more.
“Who the…“ he started to say, getting cut off when she laid her finger on his lips.
Shamira just continued to smile, gently running her hand over his cheek before standing slowly.
Entranced by this mysterious woman, he could only watch with wide eyes as she stepped back enticingly. He rubbed his eyes and blinked several times, but she remained.
With another seductive smile, Shamira motioned for him to follow. The young man swallowed, glancing around at his companions before looking back at her. She winked and turned away from him, walking away slowly, swaying her hips a bit. Almost certain he was still dreaming, but unable to resist, he got up and followed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She led him a short distance from the camp, then turned and leaned back against a large tree. He paused just a few feet away, fully taking in her beautiful form. Shapely legs peeked out of the slits running the full length of her skirt and a flat, smooth stomach showed above its hem. Her shirt appeared to be nothing more than a long piece of fabric draped over her neck and wrapped around her chest just enough to keep her decent.
Licking his lips a bit, he came toward her with a grin. Shamira reached out and took hold of his shirt, pulling him against her. Tilting her head up, she allowed his lips to descend onto hers. His hands rested briefly on her waist before starting to move greedily over her body.
Soon enough, he was fully distracted, giving her the chance to run her hand down his side, stopping to grasp the hilt of his dagger. He took no notice as she slowly drew the blade from the sheath. Shamira pulled back and a wicked smile curled over her face.
“Scream for me,” she hissed, keeping a tight grip on his shirt.
Confusion crossed his features for a few seconds before the cold metal was jammed into side (
into side?). He grunted and his eyes went wide as he stared down at her, his mouth working soundlessly.
Shamira grit her teeth, giving the dagger a hard twist, “I said scream!”
The man obliged her with a loud, shrill cry, trying to get away. She held him with all her strength, but he continued to struggle, pulling at her wrists. Again, she twisted the knife, and he let out another cry, falling to his knees. She pushed him onto his back with her foot. He groaned, pressing his hand over the wound as a bit of blood dripped out the corner of his mouth.
Just then, she heard shouts coming from the direction of the camp. The other men were looking for their companion. To make sure they came the right way, Shamira quickly knelt down and slammed the dagger into the young man’s hand, making him scream once more.
“This way, it came from over here!” she heard one of them yell. With a smirk, she darted behind the large tree and waited. Soon enough, the other three men appeared, their weapons drawn.
“Holy mother of God… Kyle!” One of them exclaimed, rushing to the fallen man.
“What the hell happened,” another one asked.
Kyle, as they called him, groaned again, trying to form a coherent sentence. “Woman… stabbed me…” was all he managed to say.
“’Woman’? What the heck is he babbling about?” The third man wondered.
The first man shook his head. “I don’t know. Help me get him up, Ben,” he said. The second man came over and they took Kyle’s arms, carefully starting to pull him up.
The wind suddenly picked up, whipping around them in powerful gusts. Seemingly disembodied voices started coming from all directions.
‘Get out… Get out… Never come back!” The voices hissed furiously in the men's ears over and over again.
“What in God’s name is going on?” Ben cried, his eyes darting around as the sound of galloping hooves reached his ears, accompanied by a long, high-pitched neigh.
Shamira whinnied again and kept to the shadows as she circled the men, her dark coat making her almost invisible. All that would be clearly discernible were her bluish-white mane and tail, which was how she wanted it. She ran back and forth between the trees, letting the men only catch brief glimpses of her. The smell of their fear made her smile inwardly. She had one more trick, and if it didn’t scare them off, nothing would.
The men stood close together as the ghostly voices and hoof-beats continued without end. Suddenly, one of them looked over just in time to see a massive creature charging toward them. He let out a shout (
comma?) and they all ducked seconds before the beast leaped, sailing easily over their heads and landing a few feet away. Quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” one of them yelled. The others didn’t need to be told twice.
Shamira watched from a distance as they ran as fast as they could with the injured man in tow. They didn’t even bother to return to the camp. She whinnied triumphantly, tossing her head and dancing a bit as the wind blew gently around her. The war was far from over, but she’d won another battle, and for now (
comma?) she allowed herself to revel in the sweet feeling of victory.
to be continued... 
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