April 3, 1618 – Cairo

     I grab the nomad by the hair and drive his face into a rock. Blood trickles from his nose as he pulls himself out of my grasp, ripping his hair off in my hand. He flips up into a tree and I leap after him. Swinging from the branches, I wrap my legs around his waist and slam his body into the trunk hard enough to hear his ribs snap. He claws at my arms, scratching deep gouges into my skin. Crying out, I let him drop to the ground. As he starts to run, I jump at him. With my fist, I pound him into dirt.

     From the impact, the ground begins to shift and open. As I start to fall into an underground cavern, my fingers dig at the loose soil. Grabbing the root of the tree, I stop with him clutching my ankle. The growls beneath us tell me this cave is not empty. I look down at the den werewolves we have awaken and the scared nomad clinging to me. With a smile, I kick him off and watch him fall to the wolves. They pounce quickly, devouring him as I climb out and save myself.