Grey Wolf by Brian Jackson

It was under a chill winter sun over freshly powdered snow that Grey Wolf led the hunting party out of camp in search of the prey. Like the ones left behind, the party was composed of blood relations or those so close as to be considered members of his extended family. All were familiar, trusted, and would react to any situation as he would react--following orders without question. This last was an important quality for each member of the party to possess considering their inexperience and the danger of this hunt. Though all were in need of food, not having tasted fresh meat in weeks, Grey Wolf was less concerned with failure to find sustenance then he was exalted to be leading this group of hunters, on this glorious day, in search of this prey.

A council of elders had met late into the previous evening to decide what was to be done. Their enemy had grown bold, taking many of the family's strongest hunters. All felt that something needed to be done, but little else was contributed beyond whimpering and moaning. It was left to Grey Wolf, their greatest remaining hunter, to step forward and prematurely, yet confidently, assume his role as leader. Standing firmly before the group, chest proudly extended, Grey Wolf lookedto each member of the council until each was forced to avert their gaze before his forceful glare. In the end, no words could have as effectively established that Grey Wolf was to be their savior and their tormentor was now their prey.

Treading through camp the following morning, Grey Wolf exchanged greetings with each member of his family, even stopping to play with youngsters who gathered around him eager to display their hunting prowess. Grey Wolf recognized the importance of allowing each individual to express their allegiance, but after only a short time his overriding need to act forced him to assemble the party and begin the hunt.

Dashing from the encampment, Grey Wolf ran at the head of the hunt unable to restrain his enthusiasm. Following familiar trails obscured in snow, the party first broke the thinning ice at the edge of the lake to fill their empty bellies with cold water. Gazing across the water, Grey Wolf hunched his shoulders against the cold, raising the thick grey fur he wore at his collar over his neck until he felt the long guard hairs tickle the backs of his ears. A cold wind blowing over the lake foretold of a hard winter to come.

As the sun rose and morning waned into afternoon the party continued to travel east into the foothills which their prey was known to frequent. Amongst the low lying hills and scrub brush they separated into smaller groups and spread out to canvas a wider swath of ground, steadily working their way toward the distant woods.

The party had assumed their hunting formation for no more than an hour before a warning cry was heard from Quiet Mouse, the youngest member of the party but the most acutely aware of his surroundings. Within minutes, the party had reassembled at Grey Wolf's side and all stood with heads turned expectantly in the direction of the alarm. The wait seemed endless before Quiet Mouse and his companions came bounding over a rise, excited at having located and confronted their adversary. Grey Wolf was pleased that the prey had been so quickly located, but possibly even more pleased that this young warrior had the good sense to rejoin the strength of his troop before bringing the hunt to a close. Obtaining little useful information from Quiet Mouse's excited boastings, Grey Wolf stifled a premature celebration with a barked censure and led the full party at a sprint toward the tree line from which Quiet Mouse had returned.

Coming over a rise the party halted as one, finding before them fresh sign of their prey, the second deadliest hunter in this valley. The group exchanged glances and exclamations in an attempt to determine as a single unit whether they were more thrilled or alarmed to have uncovered what lie before them. Amid a relatively clear patch in the snow, Grey Wolf could make out the tussled prints left by man and beast in conflict and a scarlet stain from a blood letting. Quiet Mouse had indeed confronted their adversary. The prey was injured which would make it either easier to track and bring down or even more dangerous depending upon the severity of its wounds. Quietly padding across the snow, Grey Wolf approached the scene of the conflict, crouching down below the surrounding scrub brush to keep from being seen. He was encouraged to find that the blood stain amid the disturbed snow was larger than he had at first perceived, hinting at a potentially mortal wound to the prey. A thin trail of blood led from the stain into the nearby woods. Leaning close over the crimson track his nostrils quivered at the scent of fresh arterial bleeding. Turning his head in the direction of the woods, Grey Wolf recognized that the prey was indeed in distress by the way in which it favored its left flank in its fleeing gait.

Sensing the hunting party was eager for action, Grey Wolf snorted, thrusting his head to either side of the bloody trail to convey a silent signal that the party was to fan out into the woods. Though there was no sound from behind, Grey Wolf felt no need to turn to see that his orders had been obeyed. He knew that his party was now moving quickly and silently through the woods in lethal pursuit of their prey. Grey Wolf himself paused for only an instant to scan for danger amid the dense foliage before following the bloody trail in a steady lope.

The disturbed snow on the trail indicated that the prey's movement was hindered, but it was never the less making its escape at a steady, vigorous pace. Sensing no immediate danger, Grey Wolf allowed his senses to wander, soaking in the crisp air around him and the branches of the scrub pines heavy with a fresh powdering of snow. The silence of the woods was broken only by the steady rhythm of his movements and occasional sound from the hunting party to either side detectable only to a trained hunter. Grey Wolf had never felt more alive then he did right now, leading a party that was fast approaching the end of the hunt.

With little warning the trail opened into a small clearing amongst bush and bramble. Grey Wolf's senses were assailed not only by the sudden encounter with open space but by an overpowering recognition that danger was near. Scanning the clearing for the source of his distress, his eye alit upon a man leaning against a rock escarpment a few yards away, awkwardly attempting to remain erect while fumbling with a hunting stick clutched in his hands.

Upon entering the clearing, Grey Wolf had slowed his momentum, turning his loping gate to a slow, steady pace. He instinctively dropped his head to present a smaller target and protect his vulnerable underbelly from attack. The man apparently sensed the hunter's arrival over his labored exertions since he froze and cocked his head to make eye contact. At the sight of the man's eyes, Grey Wolf curled his lips back in a horrible grin, exposing long canines, dripping with saliva, and expelled a guttural rumble from deep within his throat amid a plume of steam.

As Grey Wolf continued to pad forward, testing the prey's reactions, the man jerked himself erect and in a single swift motion, belying his apparent condition, raised his hunting stick to his shoulder and trained his eye along its shinny, black length. Raising his muzzle high in the air, Grey Wolf emitted a thunderous howl, signaling to the rest of the hunting party that they were needed. Seemingly startled by the call, the man hastily jerked his hunting stick sending a powerful crack echoing off the rocks behind him and into the woods. Grey Wolf felt a hot burning sensation high in his rear flank as a sudden impact drove him to his belly.

Looking up, Grey Wolf saw the prey briefly raise the hunting stick from his eye to gauge the result of his attack. Displaying a brief look of satisfaction, he returned the weapon to his shoulder and again sited it on Grey Wolf's now prone body. However, as Grey Wolf had anticipated, the prey's senses proved poor. The man was barely able to open his squinted eye in wonder before the blurred motion of bounding flesh poured from the surrounding cover to assail him with a series of devastating impacts. From his position at the edge of the clearing, Grey Wolf watched as the hunting party streamed from the surrounding foliage to pin the man to the ground and administer a quick and merciful death blow. Grey Wolf heard only a brief cry from the prey as his throat was torn from him causing his legs to kick the ground in a death throe.

Rising to stand on all fours, Grey Wolf turned to minister to the wound in his flank. The flow of blood from the wound was already beginning to slow as Grey Wolf licked the worst of gore from his matted grey fur. He felt no need for haste, desiring instead to allow his exhausted hunting party to finally celebrate the results of their labors.

Grey Wolf felt warmth course through his body at the thought of the successful kill. The meat from the prey would most likely only feed his family for a few days. What Grey Wolf considered with satisfaction was the even greater benefits that would be derived from the man's death. No longer would his family be hunted by man. Finally able to reclaim their dominance over their hunting ground, the hunting party would be able to forage freely amongst the slow, fat animals in the lower valley.

Yes, Grey Wolf was pleased that the future of his family looked bright. Raising his muzzle high in the fading light of a glorious day, Grey Wolf announced the ascension of the wolf through the vanquishing of man.