Natasha Luepke - Blood Innocence

While Leonida readjusted her pack and lute, Fenris studied the bark patterns of the trees; more specifically, he searched for the light scratches he had left. Just as he'd suspected: They were going in circles. He ran a hand through his hair.
"So, you are sure where we're going, right?" he asked.
Leonida wiped a hand across her brow, trying to judge their location from the position of the sun. "Well, if we take this route straight...No."
He shook his head.
"Well, I don't usually travel with a destination in mind. Can't you, I don't know, find the way with magic?"
"Umm..." He produced a book from his long outercoat. "Yes. But you have to tell me where we're going."
"The Sixth Kingdom."
"Well...yeah."
Leonida sighed. "Look, you didn't have to come. Just get me to a port. My town is a port town."
Fenris shrugged and dropped to his knees. He placed his right palm on the ground and whispered words too low for Leonida to hear. A line of leaves rose straight up, stretching ahead for miles.
"I may have to redo this spell a few times, but that should take us to the nearest harbor."
"Well, close enough."
Fenris stood up, shaking his head again.
Leonida just smiled.

Leonida sat alone after dinner, writing more in her pamphlet on barding. She listened as Fenris patrolled the area, smiling at his occasional howl. She judged that he was about a half-mile away.
She poked at the flames with a stick, wishing for one of Luna's marshmallows. What a lovely word-it just rolled off the tongue: marshhhhhh-mallooooooow, each letter melting into the next. It was her second favorite word, after "Oisin." She tried the two together: "Oisin marshmallow."
"Ush-een-mar-shhh-mal-low?" a voice consisting of the clicking of gray gravel whispered in her ear.
Leonida jumped to her feet, stench and realizations hitting her at once: the lion-creature, her attacker!
"What do you want?" she asked, backing away.
The animal slunk forward. "Time for that, Little Vixen, time enough for that." The human faced smiled, red eyes squinched up, yellow jagged teeth revealed in a snarl.
She froze. She knew Fenris could shape-shift..."What did you call me?"
It continued to smile. "Oh, I know what he calls you-your protector." The creature snorted. It raised itself to its hind legs. She wasn't sure what would get her first: physical attack or smell.
"But, where is he now?"
Leonida kicked the creature in the stomach, sending it sprawling. She turned to run, but got tangled up in her long skirts. She landed on her hands beside the animal.
"Hey!" they heard, girl and creature turning their heads at the same time. The animal used Leonida's distraction to his advantage, slashing her across the right cheek with a forepaw claw. Pushing herself to her knees, she punched him in the face. She fumbled for her knife hidden beneath her blouse as the creature recoiled. It pounced on her, ripping fresh rends into her newly healed shoulders. The knife fell from her hand and was hidden by the leaves.
"You!" the man's face snarled. Leonida heard a howl and the creature jumped from her back and side.
"Fenris," she muttered, then rubbed her cheek; it had hurt to talk. The cut was long and deep. A fireball lit up the forest, and Leonida could make out another lion's shape, a lion with a wolf's head. Before she could join him-they were now locked stomach-to-stomach-she had to see to her face, never mind her back. Finally untangling her legs, she went to find the water canteen.
Wound newly caked with mud, she went to join the fray. She tightened her grip on her knife. Two lions fought, darkness mixing colors and shapes, night mixing sound. Finally she made out a wolf's head...at the neck of a man's. She turned away; Fenris did not need her help.
"Leonida?" Fenris softly whimpered. She trudged to his side. The lion with the man's head was still.
"You okay?" she asked tiredly. She just wanted to clean up and get to sleep.
"I can't change back."
She placed a hand on his head. "I didn't know you could change into a lion. That's an animal big enough to drain anyone's energy." She had no clue as to what she was talking about.
Fenris coughed, then extended his claws. They were red. "I'm-I'm afraid. They're red. I killed him! If I turn back, I'm afraid my fingers will be red."
She sat down, putting an arm around his shoulders, hoping to steady herself. "Then stay a lion for the night-I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning."
He shook his head. "I don't want to stay an animal."
Leonida stared off into the distance. The men under her command, simple peasant farmers, hadn't reacted this badly to their first kill.
"Fenris, change back. We'll clean you up, and...I'll stay up with you as long as you need me to, okay?"
He nodded.
"No, I gotta' go get cleaned up, then I'll come back."
"Oh, I'm sorry! Are you-"
She shook her head and left to fix herself up. She shook her head. Had he never killed anything before? An animal for dinner? She'd seen him eat meat. She shook her head, hoping to clear it. He joined her, now a man, at the camp. His hands were red.
"I-uh...I'm sorry, Little Vixen." She turned away from the name and he saw her face. "I-when it's healed more, I can fix it up with magical surgery."
She shrugged. "I earned it. Now, get some sleep."
Leonida, though, fell asleep long before Fenris did. He sat, watching the fire, occasionally overcome by a fit of shuddering.

...Leonida wiped the sweat from her brow, sword heavy on her hand. At her word, hundreds of men could die. She hoped it wouldn't be her men. She grunted. Oisin had refused to stay home, to stay safe. He said he had wanted to be by her side. All she did was worry, for she was superior in combat and tactics.
She watched the ships. Marauders. The men poured out. They claimed no kingdom as home. She gave the signal to attack.
And it was in the heat of battle, sweat staining her clothes, blood staining her sword, that she received a message from a trusted advisor: Oisin is dead...

Leonida's eyes flew open. She sat up, running a hand over the stitches in her cheek. Fenris had drifted off to sleep, though his slumber was punctuated by the occasional twitch. His hands were finally clean. Fenris wasn't a killer. Oisin hadn't been one either. She had cost one man his life; would she cost another's? She stared into the dying fire. Was she worth it?