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Tendrils of soft white light fingered their way through the dark. In the distance, thunder murmured, leaving in its wake, whispers of the storm that accompanied it. The air was cold. The bitterness of the early morning summoned a cloud of fog to combat the incoming sunshine. Summer was over. Its reign had ended weeks before but still it fought on to defend its legacy against the forbidding frost.
Leaves rustled across the ground as a steady wind drew over the treetops. Branches tossed their leaves into the celebration, leaving their fingers bare.
There was a hush over the scene when thunder didn’t rattle in the distance.
Then, tentatively at first, a voice rose into the air.
It was low to start with, drawing out in a mournful sound that rose and fell in both dynamics and tone. A chorus of separate voices joined the song one by one, adding elements to the melody and harmony, which filled out the layers of the scripture.
Within the hollows of the dense wood, the ballad echoed and carried, seeping into the souls of the singers’ silent audience.
Slowly, the music began to fade, dying down to the single voice that had first started the piece.
They were gathering once again in the early morn’. Yipping and calling out to one another in excited voices. The hunt was drawing near.
They were a pack of eleven. The alpha male and female stood watch as the rest of the members fell into ranks. The smell of pine and frost filled their nostrils. But it wasn’t the forest that had attracted their attention.
Upon the shifting breeze they had caught wind of a stag somewhere within their territory. Hunts were nothing new to them. However, upon this morning some of the juveniles were joining the run. Frost crunched under their paws as they moved around, nipping at the chins of the wolf ranked next above them. It was beginning. With another cry into the foggy air, the alphas moved, drawing the following pack members in their train. This game was one learned only by instinct and observation. To lose the game meant to lose a meal. Raising their muzzles to the varying wind, they caught scent of the stag again. The hunt was on!
They began to run. Their paws thundered against the hard ground still leaden with frost. The juveniles jumped and yipped at their closest companions. Hearts beat against warm ribs in a steadily increasing rhythm. Wind blew into their faces and their eyes stung with cold. Their muscles pumped, carrying them ever closer to their pray.
With military precision, the wolves fanned out into a “V” shape departing two at a time as distance from their starting point lengthened, leaving only the alpha female. She slowed as she came toward a clearing. The hairs on her pelt rose, and she lifted the corners of her mouth, bearing her teeth. None of the other wolves were visible but she knew they were close. Her muscles bunched as she coiled, ready to spring forward.
Lo the wind changed direction and the stag raised its great head.
It’s nostrils flared once, twice, and it bounded to the left. The power in its strides reminded the alpha how dangerous their opponent was, despite its appearance. From out of the mists materialized the first silhouettes of her pack members.
They were in hot pursuit. Their tongues lolled at the sides of their mouths as they ran. Two lurched forward, and cut off the stag’s means of escape, leaping at it, fangs bared. Into the air carried snarls, growls, and the short snorting of the stag.
Their pray stood its ground, circling slowly, trying to keep watch on all of the pack at once. It had lowered its head, showing its magnificent antlers to try to ward them off while stomping a hoof. It snorted again, tossing its head. Its eyes were wide and wild. The wolves could smell the animal’s fear.
As one, the pack flew forward, open-mouthed Teeth met hide, hooves met pelt, and antlers gouged wounds. The wolves pulled back, resizing their opponent.
The alphas stood on either side of the beast. Their muscles quivered. Adrenaline and the new scent of warm blood teased their senses, causing their stomachs to ache with lack of food. In a bold move, the stag rushed forward, tossing its head again and throwing one wolf to its side. It was a valiant effort but it led only to death.
The alpha male came down upon its throat. Crimson life spurted across the cold grass as it fell. The wolves swarmed, mid fall, mindful of its flailing legs. The dark hollows of the stag’s eyes became ghostly opaque and the wood stood still.
A hush carried through the trees for at least a mile, birds and other forest creatures aware of the ending battle. Their silence, a warning to others farther away that could not hear the last few moment’s of the hunt.
The juveniles yipped about and ran toward their first kill. But they were cut short.
Whimpering, crooned softly by the alpha female drew their attention. She pressed her nose against a pack member.
A faint smell of death lingered about the ruff of fur on the wolf’s massive body. It lay prone despite her desperate attempts to revive it by cleaning its wounds with her tongue.
A life for a life; such is natures’ way.
Sunlight crept through the trees as time moved on and mid morning hovered upon feathered wings. They feasted within order. Rank by rank to what had been their custom for generation upon generation. Their bellies full, they looked one another and then toward their pack mother.
She waited, standing next to the body of her fallen pack brother.
Inhaling deeply, she raised her head, singing into the air.
Pack members joined her one at a time adding their part to the tune. It was a song of balance. Their voice parts crossed and changed in keys and richness as it reached its climax.
When they paused again, it was to rest as one entitiy. One body took a single breath, filling lungs, and diaphragm with air and breaking into several notes as it exhaled.
A song of mourning and celebration intertwined as it rose into the crystalline sky.
Morning had come.
The hunt was over.
(( i'm really proud of this piece ^^ ))
 kindreanselkie · Tue Nov 14, 2006 @ 01:10am · 2 Comments |
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