I was dressed in shorts at the most inconvenient time, walking through the woods, desperate not to lose site of him. There were numerous cuts and bruises on my legs, and on my arms, thorns’ evil deeds all the way up to my shoulders; the smell of blood taunting my nostrils. Looking up at the pale sky, or at least I thought it was pale, the trees making sure no rays of sunlight or cloud’s dark shadows, would penetrate their own. It’s the middle of summer, and really dark, I thought to myself, silently walking after him. These things would have never crossed my mind if I knew what was waiting ahead in time. A twig sharply snapped, as his foot showed no mercy, when he stopped abruptly.
I looked to my leader, who was starring wide eyed in front of him. Creeping soundlessly, like a panther stalking its prey, I walked over beside him, and the scent of fresh blood flooded over me, again teasing my sense of smell. I looked into his eyes; only terror and shock lingered there. I lightly tapped him on the shoulder, bringing consciousness back into his eyes. He hesitated for a while; glanced at me, then back at his target where his gaze held. I followed his gaze, seeing a bloody ring of leaves and twigs and a dark space in the middle. He silently crept forward and I fell into step behind him. I froze, staring ahead, I noticed piercing red-yellow eyes, and the scent flooded over me. I silently swore. The eyes no doubt, belonged to a wolf.
When we were young, my cousin Will and I, went walking into the woods, and saw a wolf. The dreadful stench is impossible to forget, the red-yellow eyes striking fear into your heart, but most of all: the fangs. I bet if pushed hard enough, the fangs could chew through rock and bone. So when we saw this wolf, I noticed it had a small scar above it’s right eye, but thought nothing of it. We started walking backwards, slowly, but then I lost my balance and snapped an awaiting twig. The wolf lunged and bit into my thigh, it was stitched up, but there was still a long, thick, scar running down my thigh. So then seeing this wolf in the middle of the bloodied space, the first thought that crossed my mind was: I’m going to kill it.
Will crept toward the wolf, his knife in hand, ready to kill also. My heart was screaming to run but my brain lept into a ready fighting stance. I whipped out my knife, not as big as Will’s, and silently threw it at a nearby tree, diverting the wolf’s eyes. Then, having seen an opening, Will lunged at the wolf, nailing it between the eyes, crippling it instantly, and it fell limp, dead. I smiled, but then a stronger wave of odor passed over me, not three, not four, but six wolves. I could smell six wolves. Looking around us I noticed we were in a small clearing, with six pairs of red-yellow eyes upon us.
With a hard voice I muttered, “Well this isn’t good,” and walked over to the tree. I growled and retrieved my knife from the tree, as Will wrenched his free too. I swore, when six growls retorted back, and then added, “I can’t stand the reek of wolf!” I glared back at the sets of piercing eyes and Will muttered something inaudible.
“Looks like this is going to be fun,” Will grumbled sarcastically. I nodded and kick my insides for being afraid, even though it was human, I couldn’t stand my thoughts being even a little distracted. Just then a wolf stepped out of the trees cloak of darkness, and stared at us, a long scar carved down the beast’s back. Following the lead wolf, five others stepped out from the tree’s cover, and the six of them started to circle us. Will and I were back to back, now rotating with the wolf’s circle. I kept my eye on the first one, the wolf I had named Scar.
“So, ya think we’re going to get out of this one alive?” I sarcastically asked Will. Having good marking abilities, I threw my knife strait between Scar’s eyes, he fell, but got back up when the knife fell down. I didn’t throw hard enough. Seeing the first move, the other five charged. Tearing off a small branch, of some kind of thick tree, I dive-rolled out of the way. I brought the rock hard stick down between the nearest wolf’s eyes (a weak spot if you haven’t noticed), and it fell limp.
A little too late, I darted in Will’s direction, only to be pounced on from behind by the wolf I had maimed. Turning in the fall, my back hit the solid bed of the ground, and the wolf towered over me. I could smell it’s pungent odor seeping into my lungs; I almost suffocated. The wolf glared down at me, growling, with saliva dripping from its hungry jaws. I struggled to get up, only to find that the wolf weighed a lot, more time in the weight room, I thought to my self.
Sparing a glance in Will’s direction, I saw that he was cornered against a thick oak, swiftly jabbing his Bowie knife at the three wolves in front of him. Good, he took one out already. Fear and worry took over his expression when he saw me, but I smiled shortly. Just then the bloodthirsty beast lumbering over me, snapped his fangs into my shoulder. Not being one to scream, I yelled, but did my best to keep it within range (short distance). I groped for my stick or knife, only to find my knife across the clearing, and my stick, flung, a distance away. Without resources, I slammed my curled hand into Scar’s side, causing him to clamp harder. I gritted my teeth, not a pleasant feeling, and swore quietly. Looking towards Will, still backed against the tree, I swore again and closed my eyes.
My life isn’t going to end this way. We’ve gotten into trouble numerous times before, and this is no different, I thought silently, trying to bring motivation. I glanced at my hand, cut up and bruised, as was the rest of me, and balled it into another hard fist. I again attempted to slam the wolf off, only to find he bit down harder and harder into my bleeding shoulder. Swearing again, my vision became blurry from lack of blood, as I fought to stay conscious.
Before I closed my eyes, not about to black out, I saw Will take out the last (apart from scar) wolf out. Then darkness crept into my eyes, but I could still hear the battle raging on. I heard Will mutter something inaudible, a swear probably, and slam into the wolf. Scar released my shoulder, tearing more tissue; crimson tears flowed steadily from my wound.
“Stay with me,” Will ordered, and I bit my lip, fighting the weariness. My eyes flooded at the sharp pain, but I am jerked back into full alert mode. Jumping up, I found my knife, tore the bottom of my shirt, and wrapped the shred tightly around my shoulder. Grabbing my stick, I yelled at Will to move, and plunged my stick strait through Scar’s chest, spraying red raindrops around us. Smiling I watched him fall, and become lifeless. Turning to Will, I nod, and together we emerged from the forest, still covered in that horrible wolf stench, the wolves’ heads in a bag for our reward later on. Yet this is only a part of our long journey, I thought tiredly, it is going to be rough.
- Title: Wolf Hunters
- Artist: Dying Clover
First of all. My sweat and blood is poured into this book I'm writing. It's called "Wolf Hunters" and it's about a fourteen year-old girl and her cousin who hunt cloned wolves. I'm only giving the first chapter and if someone steals this I will eat them alive. Rate, comment, critique, and what else you your heart desires. I'd like to put in that I did have paragraph indention, they just didn't copy onto the application.
EDIT: I'm curious. My stars are declining yet there is no critiquing.
- Date: 09/23/2008
- Tags: chapter wolf hunting