Wolf Story
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Eloise Wallis, Grade 10, Creek Street Christian College
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Short Story
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2011
Excellence Award in the 'Step Write Up 2011' competition
One paw followed another, carefully, easing through the thick sparkling blanket of snow that covered the forest floor. The light hit the ground in patches, interrupted by the silvery tall birch trees that reached towards the cold winter sun. Picturesque would be the first word to the tongue of a human, but wolves don’t think about that kind of thing. He lowered his nose to the ground, snuffling amongst the snow for the faint scent of elk that had passed not 3 hours ago. He raised his head to howl; a long, striking cry that shattered the tranquillity of the forest and sent several birds fleeing to the sky. There was a short yip in reply, and his mate, followed by the rest of his pack, emerged silently like ghosts from behind a large juniper bush. He bumped noses with his friends yelping excitedly and exchanging affections, and then returned to business, lowering his nose to the ground once more he continued on, following the path the elk had taken.
They loped for half a day, following the trail of the herd, until the sun set on the snow covered forest. The air began to bite their paws with cold and mist rose from their noses every time they exhaled. He stopped, and his companions looked at him enquiringly, he huffed and continued down into a small valley, crouched and silent. He paused again, this time quivering from head to tail with excitement and anticipation. He looked towards the east towards where a herd of elk where grazing. Wordlessly they split into two groups, circling the elk and closing in towards them, giving them only one exit, up a hill and over a rocky slope, treacherous ground for even the most sure footed.
The elk stiffened and raised their heads, velvety noses quivering as they sniffed the air. Bellowing nervously, they began to run. This was one of the easiest hunts they had ever had. The elk were clumsy as they stumbled up the uneven hill, several fell, and the wolves took their pick. He was excited, but he was wise and remained level headed as he guided them through the hunt. They leapt on top of the largest cow, and bit down on her thick russet coat. She struggled and nearly regained her feet, but the overall weight of the wolves had her on her knees. He stood watching as she kicked vainly at the snow crying for her herd, but they simply continued on- hardly mourning her loss. He leant down; his muzzle pulled back in a snarl and as he tore her throat out, and in that moment there was a flash of almost human greed in his amber eyes. They raised their blood stained muzzles to the setting sun and howled together. When the morning came once again, the wolves put their suits and dresses back on and returned to their lives