So, I wrote this a while ago for English class as a prequel to a novel, but my teacher said it could stand alone, so I wanted to post it here! Viola! Feed back would be appreciated!

Hunting in cities was wretched. Too tight spaces. Not enough places to stash gnawed bones. Way too many witnesses.
Lewin sighed, cradling his head in his hands, strands of his golden hair threading between his fingers. He hated this cramped city. The thin, twisting alleys. The buildings that blocked the night sky. The invasive smell of humans everywhere. And most of all…
There was no where for Louve to run.
And the enemy was getting ever closer.

Hunting in cities was wretched. Too many people to chose from. Too many ambush places. Too many places to stash the body. Way too boring
Dalns sighed, perched atop the gargoyle atop the train station. Tonight, he wasn’t allowed to be chasing after the yummy little treats scurrying around below him. No, tonight, he had a mission.
Destroy the puppies.
It shouldn’t be that hard. After all, they weren’t suited for the confines of the city, but rather the backwater towns and farm houses where no one would hear you scream as you got torn into bite sized pieces. Unrefined. That’s what those dogs were. Stupid and insecure. Unable to control themselves. They didn’t even remember how to feed correctly. Nothing more than rabid animals.
Honestly, Dalns had no idea why anyone hesitated to rip their throats out.

The cold rain pelted down upon cloaked broad shoulders as a six-foot tall figure unfolded himself from a dark sedan, parked right beside the rails. He turned back, offering a scared hand to another inside the car. A dainty, black gloved hand took his, and a five foot and shivering being allowed herself to be pulled up and out of the sedan. The tall figure opened his cloak, allowing the quaking wraith to huddle in the warm space, her shaking so severe her bones rattled like a child’s toy.
Strong arms wrapped around her as the rails shook, a train fast approaching, keeping the Queen of Wolves from sinking into the mud.

A hint of a familiar scent wafted past a dark haired shadow. A white face snapped up as the heavy scent invaded his mind, his white face reflecting the brilliance of the moon, his dark eyes swallowing all light. A shiver of hatred raced down his spine as he let his fangs grow, biting into his lower lip.
Seems he had just found his cousin.

Lethally strong fingers gripped Dalns’s shoulder, the ice from them biting through the thick wool of his black cloak, shattering the bone the ridged fingers found underneath the coat.
Dalns flinched back, jumping onto the gargoyle’s wing. “Damn it, Edur. That’s fricking cold!”
The King of Vampires narrowed his eyes, ice crackling at the corner of his eyes. He said nothing.
“Oh, fine. I can see you’re in a mood, m’Lord.” Dalns rolled the barely healed shoulder, wincing at the sound of cracking. Even though he healed unnaturally quick, even for vampires, that arm would stay stiff for an hour at least. Oh well, if the king wanted to shatter some pieces of calcium and shred immortal tissue, what could he, weak, little Dalns, do to stop it? But…just how stiff was this arm of his?
“Dalns,” the king muttered through gritted teeth when the vampire decided to balance on one arm atop the wing tip of the stone gargoyle.
“Aye?” Dalns asked, swinging back onto the ledge of the building’s roof.
“She’s leaving. Adolphe is with her.”
Dalns froze at this latest tidbit of news, his face a mask of shock. Slowly, if faded, and a wicked smile twisted his fanged lips.

Large hands briskly rubbed up and down the Queen’s arms, her guard praying to any entity that may be listening to keep her alive, for just a little longer, long enough for her to open her eyes one last time. Always just one last time.
“Adolphe,” the Queen breathed, her eyelids fluttering weakly. A frail hand reached for the smooth skin over cheekbones, the simple comfort of contact.
The guard did one better. He swung the woman up into his arms where she huddled like a weak pup. He shrugged his cloak over her, protecting her from whatever rain may touch her.
The shuddering of the rails grew unbearable as the large freight train drew close. Adolphe tensed as the sound of a door sliding open reached his ears, but the scent of death stopped him short. He watched in horror as corpse after corpse, wolves fell from the freight car, the scent of impossible death immobilizing heavy, forcing him to set the still-wakening queen on her feet.
“Long time, no see,” the raven-voiced vampire said as he slid out of the open freight car to face Adolphe, his one eye glinting murderously.

The King of vampires suppressed a sigh watching Dalns. He had just sacrificed the main advantage he had over that Wolf. An action that was supremely stupid, because when it came down to it, that creature could probably hold its own against the vampire. And yet there he was, parading about in front of his hated adversary, trying to force some sort of irrational action out of the stoic Wolf. Teasing and prodding.
Honestly, did no one ever teach him not to play with his food?

“…Anyways,” Dalns grinned, enjoying the feeling of wielding power over the shocked Wolf. This was a very nice change, much better than last time. “Anyways, I just wanted to say…”
“Hello, cousin.” Dalns and the vampire king spoke in unison, their eyes on different persons. Adolphe stiffened at the graceful appearance of the vampire king, worried about what the shock of it would do to the Queen. He looked down at her face.
And saw something worthy of a nightmare.
The queen stepped out of the protective circle of his arms, her back perfectly straight, with no sign of the weakness that had plagued her trembling body not moments before. Her glinting ruby eyes met those of darkest night as she stared down her royal vampire cousin.
But at least it had gotten her to open her eyes.
“Edur,” the queen of Wolves began, iron in her voice, her fangs clicking against one another. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Meaning?” Edur raised a sharp brow at his cousin’s questioning. “You are the daughter of the traitor. There is no meaning clearer than that.”
“Say nothing about my father,” the Queen said softly, the sweet cadences of her voice ill-disguising the ice and steel. “He was the better.”
“Shut up!" the King hissed back, his fangs growing ever sharper. “You are wrong.”
“Really? Who has the larger population? Whose people are still alive?” the Queen asked, tilting her head to the side, taking a step closer.
“You know nothing.”
“Really?” The queen asked, stepping forward again, her legs twitching as bones shifted.
“No, my queen, do not shift. You may not be able to turn back.” Adolphe whispered, laying a cautioning hand on the queen’s arm.
Her smile was grim. “I know,” she said, eyes locked on the vampire king, his fangs drawn and gleaming. Dalns smiled, his nails growing in anticipation of a fight.
The queen leapt forward, her white hackles raised, reaching for the vampire’s throat.
“No! Louve!” Lewin shouted, growing his fangs as he flew to defend the Wolf Queen against the king of his people.

Shock froze the Wolf Queen as a blur of white and gold leapt out before her, blood that was all too scarlet weeping from his arm.
“What?” Dalns growled. “Who in seven hells…” his voice tapered off as recognition filled his black eyes with a grim mixture of horror and excitement.
“Lewin.” Ice fell from the space surrounding the vampire king as he spoke, choking the puddle in which one whom he considered his subject lay. “You betray me as well?”
The vampire grimaced, the wound that nearly severed his arm slowly healing together with only a line of warm blood and an unimaginable pain to mark it. Yet he rose to his feet, swaying, in order to meet the dark eyes of the king with his own amber ones. Eyes that hadn’t been seen on a vampire for millennium untold. “Ye…”
Before the word finished, a blur of fangs and pelt collided solidly with Edur’s shoulder, the claws shattering the cold before the ice could anchor the wolf to him. Jagged teeth closed on the king’s neck, the black, congealed blood solidifying before it had gone an inch down Edur’s neck.
“Fool,” the unnerving sound of a human voice coming from a place it was not supposed to be sounded through the winter air. The white wolf snarled, black lips over jagged teeth mocking. “This is between none but you and I. Forget the others and face me, or do you wish to try your luck with the weaker?”
“Do you call me a coward?” Rage invaded the ice of the king, poisoning it red.
“I call you nothing your actions do not,” the Wolf Queen stood tall, her red eyes condescending, although set in a beast’s face.
“You!” Edur’s face contorted and twisted as he flew at the wolf, fang bared and claws stretched out before him. The sharp edges passed by the Queen of Wolves, blunting themselves on sinew and bone. A grin of triumph spread across the vampire’s face as he regarded the leg he had shattered, barely attached to the wolf’s body. She was crippled already. So much for her confident talk, so much for her righteous anger. So much for the rumors of “the rabid wolf…”
The sound of flesh ripping and the scent of death interrupted his thoughts. Heavy breath on the back of his neck made him cease his smiling. His eyes had not strayed from his cousin before him; he feared what stood behind him. “Dalns?” Edur inquired. His words elected no answer.
“Tell me, laughable cousin. Did you honestly think that my guard would be so incompetent that he would stand my blood being spilt? I am not the only mad dog.” Her teeth gleamed wickedly as the moon worriedly glanced beyond her cloudy veil.
And the Vampire King knew no more.

Midnight fell, casting a shadow across the gargoyle’s faces, contorting the grotesques’ faces even further. A pair of dark eyes roved the darkness, white hand drumming against the stump left of the being’s right arm, searching the night for three white figures: one tall and broad shouldered, one golden and slim, one slight and trembling.
His ears caught the click of a car door unlocking, the sound of a leather heel descending on cobblestones. Two figures stepped out of a dark sedan, one helped out the car and up the steps of the ancient mansion by a seven foot shadow.
Dalns crouched, ready to pounce. Ready to pay back his cousin and his bitch-queen for his missing eye and arm. But the third figure hesitated just outside the mansion’s large oak doors, despite the rain pouring from the heavens, plastering his bronze hair to his skull. His amber gaze pierced the shadows, staring down Dalns with all the strength and pride of a cougar. A strength that wouldn’t tolerate defiance.
Dalns sighed, settling down in the narrow space between the gargoyle’s wings. Hunting in this city was wretched.

wow this is a stunning piece of dramatic work!
i love the "hunting in the... wretched" bits
and the best part was the repetition you put in the beginning, the first two paragraphs. that is a really good tool to use when writing!!
this is a great story. especially as a short story.

Happy, you gotta hear that, cuz fishy's real good at writing!!!
Especially descriptive words, thus she's good at fantasies.

Thank you, people! I do so love praise...