Jennifer McBride
The Play Of Wolves
She giggled; delighted with the way the wind ran through her fur. She loved to run, bounding over logs and rocks. Leaping high into the air her nose filling with all the familiar scents of the woods. She turned in her dash between the trees as easily as a hawk in the air. She had known these trees her whole life, her mother had taught her every scent and secret there was to know about her territory.
But as she approached her den there was something off. Her den was a large gap under a tree that had lots of worm like roots. It had belonged to a bear many generations ago but her mother had brushed the scent away replacing it with her own. Her mother’s scent still clung to the tree and gave her comfort. Now a stranger’s scent drifted to her nose. The alarming scent of wolf blood added to the strangers. She padded forward. Loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to be threatening. A grey wolf with a white underside lay curled in the cavern of her den. When she approached, it gave a loud whimper. A plea of helplessness and for mercy. Her mother warned her of strange wolves so she advanced with caution. Her shoulders set with her head slightly down she strode into her den to get a good look at this new wolf. A male who lay still with his neck slightly bare in submission. Wide eyes begged for compassion. The source of the blood was a harsh bite on one of his hind ankles. The scent of an older male surrounded it. Her head lifted and she sniffed for other wolves. The male beside her snorted, there were no other wolves around. She looked at the wounded stranger unsure of how to behave. The grey was certainly not a threat nor on his own could he contend for her territory.
The sound of shifting leaves pricked her ears. She cast one more glance at the grey then as quiet as possible she stalked the little noise maker. Small paw tracks, a squirrel, perhaps a hedgehog. Ah! a mouse. She padded softly towards it, careful of leaves and twigs. She sunk her body low to the ground even her ears flattened. With well practiced skill and a snap of her jaw she had the mouse.
The grey had watched her curiously. Upon seeing the mouse he unconsciously licked his lips. When she looked over he dropped his head shyly. She wasn’t surprised he was hungry she could hear the groan of his stomach. Astonished brown eyes looked up at her when she dropped the dead mouse in front of him. He chomped the gift joyfully and licked her brown fur in gratitude. She studied the immobilized grey. He was young maybe two winters younger than her. Thin but not starved so he couldn’t have come from far away. Perhaps from the group of youths that had made an attempt on her mother’s territory. She quickly pushed them off by nipping the upstart leader’s ear. They had left but taken a land not too far away. Growing tired she lay down beside her new companion. They slept through most of the morning despite the racket the birds made.
When time came to wake she found herself unwilling to leave the extra warmth the grey youth provided. Then her bladder made itself known. Grumpily she stretched and left the den to relieve herself. When she returned the grey was making foolish attempts to stand, all of them resulting in him crashing onto his stomach with a whimper. She rolled her eyes then told him off with a hard snort. She nudged him onto his side. He tucked his chin to his chest in embarrassment but stayed put
Moving with confidence she made her way down to the river. The tide had gone out leaving most of the riverbed bare. Cheeky seagulls were scattered everywhere looking for fish. With a howl of joy she dashed forward throwing the gulls into the air. Her mouth hung open and her tongue was limp in a wolf grin. Leaning over where the river still gushed along she waited for a fish. After a lot of patience a fat wiggling fish swam into sight. She lowered her snout into the water slowly. Before the fish had a clue it was in danger it was flung out of the water. She chased after it as it flopped all over the place. When the fish stopped she set about eating her breakfast. She caught another big fish and took it to the grey. For many days this was their way. She would bring food, they would share their warmth, and his leg got stronger.
One day she woke to find the male gone. A cold shiver of loneliness rippled over her fur. She let out a sad whimper as her head dropped. For a while she sat deep in her thoughts. Her concentration was broken by a soft bark. The grey stood, his head tilted sideways in curiosity. His jaws held a rabbit. He shook his head then placed his catch at her paws. He sat back waiting for her response. She licked his snout more happy to have his company than the meat. With their stomachs full she set about giving the grey a tour of her land.
Their excursion was interrupted though by the howl of the large midnight alpha from further up the hill. He was calling for her to meet him. The grey pushed his head low and ears back in clear fear. She on the other hand lifted her head high and set off to find the midnight wolf. The youth ran beside her afraid but unwilling to let her go it alone. She let out a howl of her own as they came closer to the borders of their territory. Many times she and the midnight had walked parallel to reaffirm their boundaries. She had no fear of him. The grey was quite intimidated by the tall strong black furred midnight and his pack of seven. The midnight stepped forward and she met him halfway. To the grey’s puzzlement they started nuzzling each other. She nipped playfully at his neck and he took her ear in his mouth. His teeth brushing her tender skin with great care not to harm. She tilted her head curious as to why her uncle had called her. Behind him an elderly brown female slowly came into view. Her shoulder and the side of her face was injured badly. Stepping closer she could tell that the elder had been attacked and by the same wolf that had hurt the grey. She knew this old brown wolf. She was the cub sitter of the pack, her mother and probably the midnight too had been left in her care at one time or another. She was kind and gentle, a protector and nurturer. What kind of sick wolf would attack someone so harmless? The midnight too was inspecting the grey’s wounds. Their eyes met and together they lifted their heads letting out powerful howls. This dangerous wolf had to be taken down.
As one the pack spread out and moved like a wave over the land scouting for the fiend. It was growing dark by the time anything was found. The grey suddenly ran back then dropped to the ground emitting hushed whimpers. The pack gathered around him. She licked his nose trying to comfort the terrified grey. Slowly he rose and crept to the overhang he had just run from. The rest of the pack followed him, mimicking his silent movements. There below was the mad wolf. Its fur was matted and filthy hiding its true colouring. It had been in a fight or perhaps a long fall since bones stuck out from its hind legs and hips. It must have happened some time ago since the skin had healed around the protrusions. There was also something wrong with the shape of its head. In the side of its neck was a gaping wound like a red gory chasm. From the creature’s mouth hung a dead seagull. The wolf didn’t seem to understand the gull was dead as it kept shaking its head throwing the body from side to side sending feathers everywhere.
Together with the midnight she led the pack around to a slope into the shallow canyon. A dangerous air was taken on as they approached the demented wolf once more. The insane creature was still treating the bird like a rag doll. It remained clueless of their presence as they formed a semi circle around it. When their growls started up the filthy beast turned to stare at them with its one working eye. It stood like a dead tree. Still and creepy. It let the seagull drop from its mouth with a disgusting slop. Out of nowhere it thundered forward. It charged at no one in particular but opened it’s jaws wide in an attempt to attack. The semi circle closed around the mad wolf. Despite the mess the fight turned into, their target was easily distinguished by it’s filthy stinking pelt. Before long the midnight had it’s spine between his jaws and she had it’s jugular. Wasting no time they ended the crazed wolf’s life. The pack spread out to lick their own and each other’s wounds. Eventually the midnight howled and his pack set off for their den. She stood facing her uncle, the grey beside her. Her uncle tilted his head towards the retreating pack in invitation. She answered him cheekily by sitting down. The midnight let out a humoured bark then followed his pack. The pair let their faces fall into wolf grins, together they headed home to their own den.
She giggled; delighted with the way the wind ran through her fur. She loved to run, bounding over logs and rocks. Leaping high into the air, her nose filling with all the familiar scents of the woods. She turned in her dash between the trees as easily as a hawk in the air. She had known these trees her whole life, her mother had taught her every scent and secret there was to know about her territory.
But as she approached her den there was something off. Her den was a large gap under a tree that had lots of wormlike roots. It had belonged to a bear many generations ago but her mother had brushed the scent away replacing it with her own. Her mother’s scent still clung to the tree and gave her comfort. Now a stranger’s scent drifted to her nose. The alarming scent of wolf blood added to the stranger’s. She padded forward. Loud enough to be heard but quiet enough not to be threatening. A grey wolf with a white underside lay curled in the cavern of her den. When she approached, it gave a loud whimper, a plea of helplessness and for mercy. Her mother warned her of strange wolves so she advanced with caution. Her shoulders set with her head slightly down she strode into her den to get a good look at this new wolf. A male who lay still with his neck slightly bare in submission. Wide eyes begged for compassion. The source of the blood was a harsh bite on one of his hind ankles. The scent of an older male surrounded it. Her head lifted and she sniffed for other wolves. The male beside her snorted, there were no other wolves around. She looked at the wounded stranger unsure of how to behave. The grey was certainly not a threat nor on his own could he contend for her territory.
The sound of shifting leaves pricked her ears. She cast one more glance at the grey then as quiet as possible she stalked the little noise maker. Small paw tracks, a squirrel, perhaps a hedgehog. Ah! a mouse. She padded softly towards it, careful of leaves and twigs. She sunk her body low to the ground even her ears flattened. With well practiced skill and a snap of her jaw she had the mouse.
The grey had watched her curiously. Upon seeing the mouse he unconsciously licked his lips. When she looked over he dropped his head shyly. She wasn’t surprised he was hungry she could hear the groan of his stomach. Astonished brown eyes looked up at her when she dropped the dead mouse in front of him. He chomped the gift joyfully and licked her brown fur in gratitude. She studied the immobilised grey. He was young maybe two winters younger than her. Thin but not starved so he couldn’t have come from far away. Perhaps from the group of youths that had made an attempt on her mother’s territory. She’d quickly pushed them off by nipping the upstart leader’s ear. They’d left but taken a land not too far away. Growing tired she lay down beside her new companion. They slept through most of the morning despite the racket the birds made.
When time came to wake she found herself unwilling to leave the extra warmth the grey youth provided. Then her bladder made itself known. Grumpily she stretched and left the den to relieve herself. When she returned the grey was making foolish attempts to stand, all of them resulting in him crashing onto his stomach with a whimper. She rolled her eyes then told him off with a hard snort. She nudged him onto his side. He tucked his chin to his chest in embarrassment but stayed put.
Moving with confidence she made her way down to the river. The tide had gone out leaving most of the riverbed bare. Cheeky seagulls were scattered everywhere looking for fish. With a howl of joy she dashed forward throwing the gulls into the air. Her mouth hung open and her tongue was limp in a wolf grin. Leaning over where the river still gushed along she waited for a fish. After a lot of patience a fat wiggling fish swam into sight. She lowered her snout into the water slowly. Before the fish had a clue it was in danger it was flung out of the water. She chased after it as it flopped all over the place. When the fish stopped she set about eating her breakfast. She caught another big fish and took it to the grey. For many days this was their way. She would bring food, they would share their warmth, and his leg got stronger.
One day she woke to find the male gone. A cold shiver of loneliness rippled over her fur. She let out a sad whimper as her head dropped. For a while she sat deep in her thoughts. Her concentration was broken by a soft bark. The grey stood, his head tilted sideways in curiosity. His jaws held a rabbit. He shook his head then placed his catch at her paws. He sat back waiting for her response. She licked his snout more happy to have his company than the meat. With their stomachs full she set about giving the grey a tour of her land.
Their excursion was interrupted though by the howl of the large midnight alpha from further up the hill. He was calling for her to meet him. The grey pushed his head low and ears back in clear fear. She on the other hand lifted her head high and set off to find the midnight wolf. The youth ran beside her afraid but unwilling to let her go it alone. She let out a howl of her own as they came closer to the borders of their territory. Many times she and the midnight had walked parallel to reaffirm their boundaries. She had no fear of him. The grey was quite intimidated by the tall strong black furred midnight and his pack of seven. The midnight stepped forward and she met him halfway. To the greys puzzlement they started nuzzling each other. She nipped playfully at his neck and he took her ear in his mouth. His teeth brushing the tender skin with great care not to harm. She tilted her head curious as to why her uncle had called her. Behind him an elderly brown female slowly came into view. Her shoulder and the side of her face was injured badly. Stepping closer she could tell that the elder had been attacked and by the same wolf that had hurt the grey. She knew this old brown wolf. She was the cub sitter of the pack, her mother and probably the midnight too had been left in her care at one time or another. She was kind and gentle, a protector and nurturer. What kind of sick wolf would attack someone so harmless. The midnight too was inspecting the grays wounds. Their eyes met and together they lifted their heads letting out powerful howls. This dangerous wolf had to be taken down.
As one the pack spread out and moved like a wave over the land scouting for the fiend. It was growing dark by the time anything was found. The grey suddenly ran back then dropped to the ground emitting hushed whimpers. The pack gathered around him. She licked his nose trying to comfort the terrified grey. Slowly he rose and crept to the overhang he had just ran from. The rest of the pack followed him, mimicking his silent movements. There below was the mad wolf. It’s fur was matted and filthy hiding it’s true colouring. It had been in a fight or perhaps a long fall since bones stuck out from it’s hind legs and hips. It must have happened some time ago since the skin had healed around the protrusions. There was also something wrong with the shape of its head. In the side of it’s neck was a gaping wound like a red gory chasm. From the creature’s mouth hung a dead seagull. The wolf didn’t seem to understand the gull was dead as it kept shaking it’s head throwing the body from side to side sending feathers everywhere.
Together with the midnight she led the pack around to a slope into the shallow canyon. A dangerous air was taken on as they approached the demented wolf once more. The insane creature was still treating the bird like a rag doll. It remained clueless of their presence as they formed a semi circle around it. When their growls started up the filthy beast turned to stare at them with it's one working eye. It stood like a dead tree. Still and creepy. It let the seagull drop from its mouth with a disgusting shlop. Out of nowhere it thundered forward. It charged at no one in particular but opened it’s jaws wide in an attempt to attack. The semi circle closed around the mad wolf. Despite the mess the fight turned into, their target was easily distinguished by it’s filthy stinking pelt. Before long the midnight had it’s spine between his jaws and she had it’s jugular. Wasting no time they ended the crazed wolf’s life. The pack spread out to lick their own and each other’s wounds. Eventually the midnight howled and his pack set off for their den. She stood facing her uncle, the grey beside her. Her uncle tilted his head towards the retreating pack in invitation. She answered him cheekily by sitting down. The midnight let out a humoured bark then followed his pack. The pair let their faces fall into wolf grins, together they headed home to their own den.