LYRA
I pushed back the hood of my cloak, breath fogging in the cold air as my eyes swept across the darkened forest. My heart thudded against my ribs, each beat louder than the last.
A sudden rustle behind me made me flinch. I twisted around, sucking in a sharp breath, trying to steady the panic rising in my chest. The underbrush shook violently.
Shit.
Stumbling back a step, I fumbled beneath my cloak, fingers desperately searching for the dagger strapped to my thigh. Cold steel met my palm just as something lunged out of the undergrowth.
I shrieked.
My boot caught a root, and I crashed to the ground, landing hard on my tailbone. Pain bloomed up my spine and into my stomach. Groaning, I blinked rapidly and focused on the threat.
A squirrel. A damned squirrel.
"Great!" I snapped, waving the dagger in its general direction, "Fucking great!"
I dropped my head back with a groan.
