Once Upon a Time
By Claire Rosten

This night was unquestionably dark. It was also crystal clear. It was, in fact, the type of night I like best.
The moon had already risen to its zenith in the distance, so near to full that its light spilled down unchecked, bathing the grasslands before me in an eerie sliver glow. The sight called strongly to something at my core. Some primeval instinct buried deep within my belly urged me to leave the safety and warmth of my home and to strike out freely across the open country. I found myself following the impulse without question, padding my way cautiously at first until the cool breeze and rustling sounds of the night creatures reassured me that there was no reason to hold myself back. The realisation of my solitude was instantly freeing and I sprang forward at once, desperate to discover myself out there in the moonlight, longing to become one with the night.
I ran without conscious thought - just to be moving was enough - my footfalls, near silent on the soft earth, carrying me onwards across the fields and towards the hills on the far horizon. My eyes adapted easily and soon the moon and starlight became as bright as day to me. Brighter even, because now, under night's cloak of darkness, I was free to roam.
Yet, even as I ran, I knew my freedom to be mere illusion. Looking out over the countryside, I felt a pang of regret at the changes the years had wrought; the marks of man so clearly visible everywhere. Although the night may have called a halt to the daylight progress, it was a temporary one at best. Wherever I looked, I could see the telltale marks of change: from the walls that now hemmed in the grassland, to the gates that threatened to bar my entry to land I had always considered my birthright.
Not that the gates and walls could stop me, and certainly not on nights such as these-my nights. My body hummed with energy and, with unleashed joy, I stretched and flexed with ease, pushing myself harder, breath coming out in white cloudy wisps that spiralled away into the night. This was still my land and now, my time.
The call of the hills which now loomed before me was as strong as ever - far stronger than any stone or wooden barrier could ever be. With muscles bunching and legs springing forward, I went over each obstacle with ease, laughing that any could think such insignificant things could ever stand in my way. Soon nothing separated me from my goal and I climbed the hill at speed, my exhilaration building with every step.
I long not for red cloaks, nor do I hunger after children. From the mother who gave milk to the twin founders of an empire to the bound son who, it is said, will break free during the fall of the Gods to slaughter the strongest of them all, I am neither spirit guide nor sentinel of death. I am not the fate chosen by the Damned to befall those who stray from the Saviour's path, nor am I a test of the Lord set to challenge his follower's faith.
I am none of these things, I merely am.
At last, I stand on the summit. Throwing my head back, I howl my presence to the stars.

Hello Claire,
What a lovely atmospheric piece. Some of the writing was beautiful, -the light spilling down unchecked- and the -padding cautiously until the cool breeze and rustling sounds-
I liked the silent journey across what felt like a great distance and you kept hold of the physicality of your character throughout, building up more and more (good) tension as you went.
One of the things I found the most appealing is how you kept the nature of your character fairly ambitious. On first reading I wondered if the character was human, freed from all the constraints that we are all so familiar with. I liked the idea that after his/her initial caution, s/he was reassured and went with it so completely. The pace hots up, with fences and gates not getting in the way, with muscles bunching and with the exhilaration of the run. I assumed that ambiguity was intentional, and to that end, wondered if you'd consider going a little further, so that by the last paragraph there is the double realisation that your character is not human and then realise it's a wolf.
The only line I felt truly interfered with that idea was the one - I went leapt each obstacle with ease-
All the others, padding feet, eyes adapting, muscles stretching and bunching, all these are ambiguous enough to hold the secrecy of your story until the end.
In terms of structure and writing, I suggest you look at the possibility of beginning the story with the impactual sentence -This night was unquestionably dark-
In the last paragraph - My kind has been both feared and revered throughout the ages.- I suggest you 'show not tell' and consider dropping the sentence. Once the reader realises the character is a wolf, then s/he will automatically know it has been feared and revered. Also in relation to the last paragraph, I wondered if you'd consider putting the more familiar example of wolves first, making the identification a little more rapid for the reader (who may not know about Romulus and Remus or the bound son).
Finally, in the 5th paragraph beginning -Not that the gates and walls could stop me- I found many repetition of 'my'. I have trimmed these a little. See what you think. There was a close repetition of 'muscle', one of which I took out.
You achieved a great deal in such a short piece and I felt as if I'd run through the fields at night myself. Very liberating!
Hope this is helpful; let me know if you have any queries.
Isanna Curwen