The wind howls like my mate, rifling through the valley and chilling me to the bone. The moon is high in the western sky, bathing the forest in hushed
shades of black and white. The beauty of the moment is glorious, haunting.
I lick my nose to clean away the snowflakes. It's an excerise in futility, however. Like a summer rain the snow covers the firs, the ground, the
mountains, my coat. Exhilarating!!!
But I can't linger anymore. My pups are hungry and have to eat, the longer I delay the louder their cries will be. And how I loathe to hear them cry!
I gallop down the hillside, dodging the stubborn trees as I careen to the forest below. The forest and it's wonderful assortment of deer, squirrel,
elk, and other such tastiness. How blessed am I by the Spirit to be the culler of his herds, the keeper of the numbers! No other creature could
imagine the joy I feel from doing by eternal task.
Faster now, breathing deeply of the cold, dry, snow-filled air. Another chill wave passes through, hastening me even more. Ears up, head down, legs
driving... no signs of food yet. The air is coming from the south... I sniff deeply, searching for life. Maybe I should slow down, perhaps I'm letting
the excitement of the moment override my huntership?
Now I am become the stalker, darting silently between the silky shadows provided me by the last leafy remnants of the trees. I'll continue south for
awhile, toward the lakes. But also toward Those Who Walk on Two Legs, the ones who kill without thanks nor praise. Demons. Pillagers. I must take care
to avoid them at all costs. They slew my mates mother last year... for no reason. They called down the thunder, without remorse. I hate them. I will
teach my children to hate them also.
The lakes approach. I can make out the gentle sloshing of the near-frozen water against the rocky shore... the lake will be solid ice before the next
moon, but not quite yet. I slip carefully to the edge, lapping cautiously at a small puddle of liquid. Ahhh, the simple joys! The Spirit truly is with
me tonight, as it always is.
Wait... I smell iron... blood! Raising my nose to the wind, I back into the darkness once more, tasting the air. Found it, over there by the... no.
Not there. Not in the odd tree with the false suns. Not in the temples of the soulless ones! But the smell is overpowering. So much blood!!! Do I dare
investigate and risk encountering a walker? My pups are hungry. My mate is hungry. It is my lot in life to provide for them and I will not fail. I
exhale slowly and deeply.
From tree to tree I bound quickly, hoping my presence will not be noticed. The walkers are quick to call the thunder that kills, and I will not be a
trophy for them this night! Only a few paces now between me and the hollow tree. I can hear voices, the tongue of the demons. No lovely howls or
whimpers, but strange, evil chortling and snorts. If the wicked ones can laugh, it almost sounds like such!
I drop to the ground as I see a shadow approaching the empty square in the side of the tree. Thank the Spirit the moon is hidden by the clouds of his
grace now, otherwise I would be seen. The walker is tall and lean, his skin the color of treebark and field... and blood! Dark patches of it on his
skin, in his hair, on his face. But he doesn't look injured. In fact, he looks as if he is in the throes of bliss. Is that a smile or smirk he's
wearing??? I cannot tell. Whatever it is... this creature is evil. Beyond evil... malevolent. I shiver at the thought of even being near it. I start
to back away. No! I cannot fail my family! There is blood in there, and blood means there may be food as well. Perhaps a nice, fat elk.
Ah, he's turning from me now and retreating back into the tree. Smoke is coming from a hole in the tree and I can smell the burning fire within. And
something else. Something sweet. Flesh! I smell roasting flesh! I almost lose my composure and bolt inside the hollow tree. Patience, I tell myself.
The walker has not closed the tree behind him. I have to chance a look inside, see if I can steal away a piece of meat. Carefully I walk to get a
better view of what's happening inside.
I am filled with dread and mystery at what I see before me. The walker is using his blade, cutting and chopping at a corpse. But not that of an elk or
deer, or even bear. It is slaughtering one of it's own kind! How evil are these beings?! Loud groans and breathing fill my ears... how I wish I could
shut them! He is throwing the pieces of his kindred on the fire... that's what I smelled before! What wickedness is this? The Spirit keep me, I am
A new feeling is upon me now.
Rage. Hatred. Hunger.
If they can be killed... they can be eaten. Especially one as ravenously wicked as this.
He has no idea I am here. He cannot detect my presence, he is distracted with his ghoulish task. I will have to be fast, anything else and I will be
dead and on the fire next!
Spirit keep and sustain me, give me victory and let my kill be for your glory!
The walker's neck is an easy target and crunches satisfyingly between my teeth. My mouth is filled with molten hot, thick, crimson blood as the wicked
screams in fear and pain. Foul beast, you will fill the bellies of my family for the next week! It is trying to stand up now and shake me loose. I
clamp down further and feel the shatter of bone... it tries again to stand, but I can tell it is weakening. The blood loss confirms this as the walker
slumps forward, his tattered neck slipping from my jaws. It is breathing weakly, dying. It's glossy eyes stare at me, fear and hatred burning from
within. Their fire is dimming now, the beast dead.
As my heart slows I look around the hollow tree. The creatures kindred continues to burn on the fire, filling the tree with smoke. My bloodlust
subsiding, my family needs to eat! The walker is heavy as I take it's shoulder in my mouth. I will not be able to take it whole! I'll have to take a
part of it to my pups now and come back for the rest later. It's leg will make a fine meal... I bite into the thigh deeply, blood and tissue filling
my mouth. Spit that bit out, then bite again. And again. And again.
Finally I have taken the leg... it is heavy, but not too heavy that I cannot drag it without too much effort. I make my way back to my mate and pups,
the blood from the walker's wound staining the sparkling snow behind me. Thank the Spirit, he that keeps and sustains me, for this meal and for my
victory! To him be the honor and glory!
The wind has picked up now, tickling my ears as I round the final bend for home... I can hear my pups! They are hungry, and their Father will feed
edit on 1-8-2012 by Dreine because: typo