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Three Wolves on the warpath.

Submitted:Jan 16, 2009    Reads: 90    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Moonlight dapples their flanks as the three shapes lope through the forest.
The largest wolves muzzle demonstrates no great age, her shape has the sleekness of a young adult, but her eyes show eternity.
Cold, calculating with no sadness for what she, and her two siblings, are about to do.
No remorse, just determination that revenge would be hers. No more bullying from the, so-called, leader of the pack.
The she-wolf had made her plans well and this night, before dawn, Scar would lie dead at her feet.
No-matter that the two young wolves, ranged on either side of her, were his offspring.
What had he cared? Having sired the pups, his role had finished.
She knew where he would be; where he always was, at this time of the moon; the howling mountain was only a short distance from them now.
She glanced to her left where, Jet, the black dog ran. As she looked, he turned his gaze towards her, then back to the track.
Her initial misgivings about his abilities, strength and courage had been misplaced.
Almost as tall as her at the shoulder, deep in the chest and large muscled, he ran with an easy, powerful grace.
To the right, Jesse; silver furred, slimmer and smaller, lithe, lightening quick in mind and action, always with a bright, wicked glint in her eyes.
She led the two off the track and into thicker forest, before they reached the slope, which led to where their quarry sat, howling at the moon.
There were none of his usual pack with him, but that didn't mean it would be easy. Scar was the leader: a large, thickset dog with a powerful neck and jaws, but she knew his strengths and had trained her offspring to take advantage of his few weaknesses.
He finished his adoration of the moon with his usual long howl and set off down the slope, unsuspecting, towards the waiting trio. As he followed his usual track, the she wolf stepped forward from the shadow of a tree, confronting him with a snarl. Scar didn't hesitate; attacking was his defence. The she wolf knew this and retreated into the trees a little. As he followed she hung back a little, to tempt him further into the forest, into her trap.
Round a large pine she ran, and, as Scar followed, Jet came up from the undergrowth and struck for the throat. At the last moment Scar moved his body enough to make the bite miss the vital artery aimed for. However Jet had a hold on Scars neck fur and didn't mean to release his prey.
Scar twisted and turned trying to shake Jet off, but his adversary hung on. Scar knew he was fighting for his life now, even more so when Jesse made her move.
Barking, she bit at his hind leg, to hamstring him. This distracted the pack leader and, as he turned his head to defend himself; slowed by Jet's weight on his neck, the she wolf went for the exposed side of his neck, and felt her teeth sink into his throat. A telling strike that made Scar redouble his efforts to free himself, to no avail and as the blood drained from his veins, his struggles became weaker.
He died as the full moon set, and, as dawn arrived, after the transformation had taken place, the woman picked up her two children in her arms, and went home.


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