Night Wolf

Shallow silver light bathed the forest clearing as the moon rose higher in the sky—a mere claw mark against the black canvas. Little dappled lights lay thickly upon it, twinkling brightly. Not a cloud ruined this perfect night, nor a breeze send its icy chill. All was peaceful.

It was the mark of late autumn and the small woodland animals were beginning to return to their burrows deep within the earth. They could feel the change in air, and sensed the coming winter. Colored trees were beginning to wilt, the grass was paling and the days were growing shorter. Already, the mornings were slick with frost. The cold winds from the north had whispered through the trees, but not tonight. Tonight it seemed that all was at rest—all but one.

A dark shape prowled along the edge of the meadow, seen as nothing more than a moving shadow. It padded silently through the undergrowth, its agile body quickening with excitement.

Suddenly, it paused. Its ears pricked as it turned its gaze to the moonlight clearing. A rustle had sounded from a tuft of exposed grass. The shape opened its mouth slightly to taste the open air. Familiar scents came rushing to it—the crisp scent of the cold fall air, mixed with the piney smell of the forest and the mildew of the decaying underbrush. Along with that another scent that to it seemed to overpower all the others…mouse!

The figure stared hungrily at the thicket, its glowing yellow eyes betraying its shadowy disguise. Green tinted these eyes, and it was that green that showed that it was a creature of the night. It could see well in the dark, and would have no difficulty in getting its prey.

The shape dropped to a crouch and stealthily crept to the edge of the forest, light on its paws. It stifled the urge to wag its tail in excitement. It had not had a proper meal in a while, and though this mouse would not do much to quench its hunger it was meat—something that its stomach had been longing for.

With ears alert and eyes focused it slowly moved out of the shadows. Light bathed its muzzle…then its head, until finally it was fully exposed. Its thick grey coat shinned brilliantly in the silver light, outlining its defined features—its long snout, broad head, pointed ears, powerful muscles and bushy tail. It was a wolf and an alpha male at that. He had the thick shoulders of a hunter and long, nimble limbs that now crouched low to the cold ground.

A dead leaf stirred as the mouse cautiously crept out of its burrow. Its little pink nose raised to the sky as it sniffed the air. The wolf stilled, its forepaw raised in anticipation. The mouse stayed there for a moment longer, unmoving as it checked its surroundings. The hunter remained were it was, motionless. Just an inch farther and he would be able to pounce on it before it could retreat to its shelter.

Suddenly, the mouse turned with lightening speed and scurried once more into the safety of the thicket.

The wolf stared, confounded. He had not moved. Surely the mouse could not have known he was there? The wolf was still staring at the mound when a flicker of movement ahead of him warned him that something was in the trees.

The wolf raised its head, yellow eyes blazing. Whatever this thing was, it had scared his prey away. His nostrils flared as he scented the air once more. Then his lips lifted to reveal his long white teeth. He smelt another wolf—an alpha male. He must have been so focused on the mouse that he did not notice its scent.

There was no need for thought. The wolf then knew its duty. This intruder was a threat to him, and needed to be run off his territory. The wolf turned and scanned the shadows. Perhaps he would give him an extra nip on the heels when he chased him away—a payback for the mouse he scarred.

But just as he thought this, the other wolf turned its gaze to him and stared threateningly. The grey wolf stared back, its lips lifting higher, exposing its pink gums. If this wolf was looking for a fight for supremacy, he would not back down. It was his territory, and he could see it in the others wolf’s bright red eyes that he knew too.

The wolf didn’t seem to be bothered by the difference of eye color. A spark of curiosity did arouse but he pushed it aside. He wouldn’t care if the wolf had three eyes. All he cared about was getting him off his land.

The shape crept out of the shadows then, and as the grey wolf sized him up, he felt a wave of terror. In the shadows, the intruder’s eyes were level with his, giving him the impression that they were the same height. But he was wrong. The wolf crept out, its stomach flat to the ground, its head lowered in a hunter’s crouch. And at that moment the wolf realized that he could not win. The wolf was three times his size, and was looking at him like he was a mouse and it was the killer.

The smaller wolf backed up, his tail tight between his legs and his ears flat in both submission and fear. Was this what it felt like to be prey? He stared back at the advancing wolf. This was not the way for a wolf to try to obtain power.

The wolf was black as night with large, powerful muscles and strong legs. Claws the size of a normal wolf’s teeth dug into the leafy ground as it made its way across the clearing. Its red eyes glinted with dark anticipation, and as the wolf gazed back with eyes glazed with fright, he realized that these eyes were not the eyes of a wolf, but of a creature far beyond his intelligence.

The black creature lifted his lips, his teeth dripping with saliva as his hackles raised, ready to pounce. The wolf yelped in terror, and turned to flea but it was too late. An enormous weight came crashing down on him, and as fangs met his throat, a thought flashed through his mind that did not belong to his: Beware of the Night Wolf.

And then the night caved in on him.