A Dream of Wolves Dying in the Snow

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Rakuen Growlithe
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A Dream of Wolves Dying in the Snow

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Post by Rakuen Growlithe »

A Dream of Wolves Dying in the Snow

Overhead, in the midnight blue sky, a pale, full moon was watching over the world and spreading its cool light over all it could see. One of the places it light fell was on a small band of wolves threading their painfully slow way through deep drifts of crystal, white snow. There were four wolves, three adults and one cub.

The wolf in the lead, the alpha was black and his tongue hung out of his gasping muzzle; like the three other adult wolves he was incredibly thin and his thinning fur barely hid his bones. Behind the alpha came his mate, grey with streaks of light brown down her back, she was limping due to a bullet wound on her left hind leg. The cold made it stiff and painful to walk but still she had to push on, drops of her blood rolling down her frozen fur to stain the snow beneath her and leave a trail of red drops. The cub that followed in his mother’s footsteps struggled through the snow that came up to his chest, he was the only one with any fat on as the entire pack had sacrificed their food to gamble on his survival, he was their only hope. His thick fur was soft and not yet suited for the harsh trek he as being forced by circumstance to undertake and the snow that clung to his fur melted from his warmth and flowed to his skin, chilling him to the bone. The last wolf was a few lengths back, an old female whose dull eyes showed that she had given up all hope of survival. The only reason she didn’t lie down and wait for death was that the alpha had forbidden her. He knew it was futile to struggle but he just couldn’t give in, he wouldn’t abandon his pack to death until every last ounce of strength had been hard-fought and wrestled from his grasp.

The droning sound of an engine reached the wolves ears and they looked back in fear, men were coming to finish them. It wasn’t enough to have driven them to their death, no, they would kill them, and there would be no chance of survival. The alpha raised his muzzle and snarled defiantly at the moon, angry at it, angry at the humans, angry at his own lack of strength to protect those he loved. The old wolf had collapsed again; she couldn’t go on; what was the use anyway? Men would be there soon with guns, there was no escape. The mother held her shivering cub closer to her body, comforting him, assuring him all would be well. The alpha jumped past them and snapped at the old wolf, snarling angrily and forcing her back to her feet. Where was her pride? He couldn’t allow them to give in. They had to continue, no matter what. Even though his body was weak the alpha’s spirit was still as strong as ever and the pack followed once again as the sound of a truck came closer and closer. Soon they could see its headlights shining their accursed light at the pack. The moonlight fading as clouds began to cover it beneath their blanket of darkness. The alpha barked a command, he could the beginning of a pine forest ahead of them, and if they could make it they might have chance. The mother grabbed her cub by the scruff of its neck and ran as fast as her exhausted body would allow, her injury hampering her escape further. The alpha glanced back at the old wolf and she looked back at him, directly into his eyes. The sadness of her soul transferring itself to him. He knew she would never manage to run, she could barely trudge after them but he couldn’t just leave her. He was about to help her when she snarled at him. He was shocked, she was defying his leadership! He was about to snarl at her when he realised she was right, sometimes you have to make sacrifices and admit that you’re wrong. Even though it tore his heart the black wolf turned his back on his pack member and left her standing alone as he went to his mate and son, he was all that mattered now.
“There’s one!” shouted a man in the truck, “Kill it! We don’t want no wolves here”
A second man raised a rifle but was stopped by the man driving, “Don’t waste your ammo and that thing.”
He turned the wheel and the truck drove straight into the lone wolf. There was the thud as the truck stuck her frail body and rode over here and then only the malicious laughter of the men in the truck.
“Taught her a lesson didn’t we? We’ll have no more wolves worrying our animals.”

The alpha, his mate and their cub were still too far from the forest when the truck skidded in front of them, blocking their path and the crack of a rifle echoed across the open space behind them. The female dropped the cub and fell; blood was bubbling out of a wound on her shoulder. She growled in pain, the bullet had passed through her shoulder and ripped into her lung, as she growled blood began to bubble between her teeth as her life dribbled out of her muzzle. Her eyes felt heavy and she could remember clearly her whole life; days as a cub, warm in her mother’s fur, playing with other cubs, enjoying life, when she grew older and days with her mate, pleasure at his touch and her longing for his strong body to be with her forever, the pride she felt after her lone cub was born and the fear and pain as she fled her pursuers. Her eyes were heavy and as they closed she saw her mate once more, leaping forward to defend her and her cub and once again her love bloomed inside her as she ascended to the stars.

The alpha lunged at the men only to feel a pain as a bullet tore into his face, breaking his jaw. Despite this he tried to attack again, he would die, yes, but he would die protecting those he loved and he would feel no shame. One of the men side stepped the angry wolf and slammed the butt of his rifle on the poor animal’s head. The alpha slumped to the ground, snarling and cursing his lack of strength, he didn’t feel or hear the final shot but felt a deep and intense wave of sleep pass through his body as he died.

“Let’s go,” said one man, “we’ve had our fun. We killed the beasts.”
“Wait, they had a bloody whelp with them!”
“Damn curs! Who wants to kill it?”
“I’ll do it,” decided one of the men, drawing a revolver from its holster and crouching by the shocked cub.
It snarled at the man and attempted to snap at his hand but was too slow. The man backhanded the cub, almost knocking it senseless. It yelped in pain from he hit and was then grabbed roughly by the neck and the barrel of the gun was placed against the side of its head. It realised with an overwhelming sense of defeat that it would die. It would never grow to howl at the moon, he would never have his own pack, never mate, never…never…never. It would all end before it had even begun. The cub heard the lick as the man cocked the hammer back and then…

The End
"If all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind."
~John Stuart Mill~

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~John Milton~
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