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a realistic story of how a famine stricken pack of wolves hunt a healthy moose |
The moon peeked over the mountaintops sweeping a glowing glance into the frozen forest. Snow dusted the landscape and the wind was silent. From afar one would believe the land to be empty save for the spectacular mountains and the forest at their feet. But deep within the arctic forest the large arctic wolves prowled. A pack of seven moved like shadows through the pine in search of the night’s meal. Their tongues lolled out red and their fangs shone white like the snow on which they crept. The Alpha male and female moved swiftly out in front of the other five steering towards what their keen noses sensed. Food. Ears low like their lean bodies, the magnificent animals stopped upon a long smooth rock that jutted out the side of a hill. Far below the spot of observation they could sense their prey. In a small clearing at the bottom of the hill stood a moose. But not just any old moose that a smart pack of wolves would usually hunt down. This lone buck was in its prime-big strong and healthy. His antlers were enormous and sharp, an impressive weapon against predators. Something in the air nudged the buck’s sixth sense and startled him. A wind from the east brought the smell of the forest to the noses of the eight animals but the wolves’ stomachs ached at the strong confirmation of the meal below. With movements and signals unnoticeable by humans, the wolves split with the head male in charge of three and the female of the remaining two. The Alpha male took down the right side of the hill low to the ground with the three following in a line. They made no noise and moved in an effortless gait quickly towards the flank of the moose. The female made an easy trot down the left side making no attempt to conceal their approach. An owl spied on the scheming carnivores and hooted an eerie remark. The moon had gotten quite high and the pale light shown directly upon the clearing, which was due to a frozen bog that was now the arena for an age-old battle for survival. The armed buck was undaunted by the three wolves that came down the hill and the Alpha female wasn’t surprised by the indifference the animal in her sights emanated. Stamping a hoof into the crusty ice the buck snorted once letting out a plume of breath from flared nostrils. Noticing the change in demeanor the Alpha female broke into a sprint with ears back and teeth bare. The other two made the same transformation. Attention focused solely on the Alpha female’s hunger-afflicted team, the moose only realized its mistake a moment too late, for the Alpha male and his fierce brothers had gone unnoticed and were closing in on his flank with killer intent. Fangs ripped at the rump of the moose and closed on a shoulder. But were easily shaken off by a quick pivot of the body. The large female was thrown off balance and a kick from a deadly rear hoof just missed the head of one of the younger males. The Alpha male made another attempt to tear into the soft belly of its prey but an antler swing made him duck and jump back in haste. The seven wiry canines surrounded the defending moose. They all stood for a moment that seemed frozen in time. Their shadows were long upon the frozen bog and a sudden gust ruffled the raised hair on their backs. The adrenaline-pumped moose kept its ground and glared into the eyes of the Alpha male, challenging him. At that instant the moment was destroyed by a simultaneous occurrence of actions. One of the younger female wolves pounced snarling at the left flank of the poised moose and at the same instant the sharp spear like antlers made a swing in defense. Bone met flesh and the wolf was flung a dozen feet into a tree dying of a broken body. Whilst the moose’s head was turned, the Alpha female lunged at the throat where the life vein was exposed. But she missed and caught a maw full of flesh a little bit lower towards the immense chest of the buck. Releasing just as quick and jumping back, the malignant she-wolf awaited the moose’s next move. A smaller female and male made a joined attempt at gutting the large body of the wild adversary. In a mess of confusion and awkward balance, the moose and the fumbling wolves crashed together. Their feet slipped on the ice and the moose tripped with the bodies of his foes beneath him. Bones cracked, growls turned to yelps and blood gargled grunts. The wolves could not get up. Head swinging wildly and hooves scarring the ice for footing, the furious moose regained its stance. Swaying in the cold, the moose was weakening. Though many wounds inflicted, it stood proud. The buck made another attempt to break the circle of hungry carnivores. A younger male wolf tried slashing at the neck as the moose trampled forward. But, slowed by fatigue and a broken rib, his teeth clipped short of the neck and immediately felt the frantic kick and maul of the desperate moose. A hoof met the wolf’s skull with a crack and the antlers demonstrated another maneuver that left the dying wolf many feet away with crushed bones and many wide gashes. Without sound nor signal, the three remaining wolves felt each others desire to finish the job and kill the rioting moose. If a human were to witness such a scene from above, it would arise feelings lost in time of purity and instinctual truth to the law of survival. The air was thick with tension; gloom gripped the moose by its heart. Death was at hand. In a swift change of mind and demeanor, the moose whipped around to face the leaping attackers. The Alpha male sunk his fangs into the left shoulder and the female caught hold of the muscle that runs along the back of the neck-tearing tendons and spurting a shower of warm blood. The third and last wolf, another male, received the frontal blow of the moose’s retaliation. Blood shot eyes widened at the sight of a lunging wolf. The crazed moose lowered his dangerous head. The wolf thereby impaled hiself upon the deadly antlers. In a mess of bone and blood, another wolf lay to die in the crimson snow. The two Alphas delivered their last ripping bites, cutting the life veins-which the moose owed to staying alive. With a final breath of pride and courage, the moose attempted the shake the beasts off, but his legs gave in to the weakening heart and failing spirit. With a shudder and grunt, the large bloodied animal fell to its side and lay still. The pair of battered wolves nuzzled and licked each other’s wounds. Then they proceeded to investigate the bodies of their fallen family. Finding each one dead or on the brink of dying, they whimpered softly in the night. The moon no longer above the desecrated clearing, the wolves feasted in the dark. In returning to their den at a painful gait, they heard the pups crying for food. The female wolf, quickly turning to the mother role, produced the night’s food in a few convulsive gargles. The grizzled male was taken by sleep. Morning came quick and the pups were awake with energy in their veins. They jumped and nipped at their mother’s poor body. Crawling out of the warm home, the morning took a sudden change in atmosphere. The wind changed and a quick sniff of the breeze caught the Alpha parents stiff in their tracks. But it was a moment too late. The shots were heard long after they felt the sting and burn of the cruel bullets. The two wolves fell upon one another and the pups disappeared back into the den and cowered from the unknown terror. Whining in the shadows, the terrorized wolf pups heard the shouts of human men. They did not know what hunters were, but soon learned the evil of man. With the last threads of life, the Alpha male licked the muzzle of his mate. She crooned a warm note and her eyes closed. Their spirits never died. |