Wolves and Men

As he lost himself in the smell his mind began to illustrate the picture and he could see them just as clearly as if he were watching them firsthand. One of them, the bigger of the two a male, had been alerted by his howl and was pacing into and out of the river.

He could smell the creatures fear.

It was tangy and vibrant, almost like what a lemon would taste like but less sour, there was nothing like the smell of fear in his prey. As he ran through the woods, his eyes could still see the smallest detail of the forest around him, a trail of sap that slowly slid down the truck of a nearby cedar. He saw an ant that was missing a leg as it trekked over the forest floor. But the smell of his prey created in his mind a second vision in which he watched his prey, inhaling even the smallest change in their scent. The deer was rotating his head back and forth looking up and down river. The deer didn’t know it, but its head looked like a radar dish, constantly rotating. The deer’s ears flicked forward and backwards; he hadn’t yet detected what hunted him. Soon it wouldn’t matter.

He allowed himself to slow and maintain his downwind approach to his prey. He inhaled the scent again and knew that the smaller of the two, a female, was still drinking from the cool water. Should he kill them both? The thought made his mouth water as he let his animal side take over a little bit more. His thoughts began to diminish and become cloudy with pure instinct. His mind started to work. The only thing that mattered was the one thought of food and the kill.

He knew it was dangerous to let himself go like this especially since his lunar form’s instinct was so powerful during the hunt. He might lose himself forever and remain a wild animal, to be hunted by those with the intellect to conquer his less sophisticated animal mind. His prey was more likely to outmaneuver him and he was more likely to go hungry, which was also dangerous and could contribute to the erosion of who he was. But the power and apathy that came with those instincts was so great that he gave over to them willingly, just enough.

He slowed to a modest trot. He could begin to see the river as his mother shone down on it, reflecting her beauty for all to see. She was a master painter and under her glorious light everything was touched with silver.

The doe raised her head up from her drink and her head shimmered with the silver light of his mother.

He watched the pair in the moonlight for a few moments more, studying them allowing his human mind to process the strengths of the prey, the angle of attack, the terrain, possible escape routes. The male was bigger and would be more filling as a meal. He was farther away and already alert. The buck was unsteady and jumpy as soon as he attacked the buck would bolt. The male would probably run down river till he could cross and run up the opposing slope. It was odd that the male had not relaxed yet. It had been some time since his howl and there was no way that the deer could have sensed his approach. It was troubling to his human mind that the animals of his forest were less docile than they used to be. As if his fair rule over the woods made the creatures uncomfortable in some way.

Just like the people he used to live among. He shook that thought away as soon as it surfaced, this was not the time. The doe would make a much better target. She was still drinking from the river and soon they would leave, her smell had changed to something resembling contentment which means she had quenched her thirst. She raised her head one final time and turned away from him. That was all the opening he needed. He sprang forward and the male, as predicted, bolted a touch faster than the doe. The doe’s butt lowered as she kicked off the shallow bed rock of the river. She kicked up a great spray of water like a curtain, a curtain that he parted with his great shape as he leapt and came down, forepaws first, on the hind quarters of the female.

The doe screamed and fell in the water with a splash. He used his great upper body strength to heave himself over the body of the fallen deer as she kicked and screamed, trying to get up. He brought himself to her neck and snapped down on her jugular vein. He felt the warm gush of her lifeblood spew out from around his massive jaws. The deer continued to scream and kick but the kicks were quickly becoming less forceful, less panicked and her screams were less loud. He continued to apply the pressure, squeezing her neck with his teeth. The deer could only gasp for breath now, which was coming more raggedly and shallow.

He buried his nose deep in her neck. No animal smelled like this, except right before death, it was so much more intimate than the smell of any other emotion, even fear. It was the smell of submission to the inevitable. He could feel her very weak, rapid pulse slow and soon there was nothing. He held her in his mouth for another moment then let her go.

She was wide eyed and her tongue was hanging out of her small gaping mouth, leaving a trail of her rich blood into the water. He retracted his claws from her flank and dipped his blood-stained jaws into the river. He scrubbed his snout with his paws and cleaned his claws. He kicked himself upright and, with water dripping from his face and arms, he looked toward his mother, and he howled his victory to her. His royal howl rang out from the sides of his valley as each tree echoed and sang his call back to each other. He looked at his mother in her rightful place in the sky and bowed low in gratitude to her, thanking her for her generosity.

He gripped the carcass in his claws, and he threw the great weight of her over his shoulder and walked back to riverbank. He began to trudge up the hill. He had passed a large rock on the way down to the river. It would make a perfect dinner table. Just because he looked like an animal didn’t mean he had to necessarily eat like one. He could eat his kill on the relatively clean surface of a rock instead of the dirt floor of his forest. Royalty had to abide by some rules of etiquette.

He walked for a time, knowing that the carcass he carried was leaking all over the place. It didn’t matter. The trail would go unnoticed and untraced. There was nothing to challenge him here, not as he was now. He came to the large boulder he had passed and walking up the hill past it a ways, he turned and jerked the dead animal down upon the stone’s surface.