Running with Wolves

The air was cold, and the night was dark. But it doesn’t matter for the young wolf. What is cold to his thick, coarse fur– what is dark for his eyes that sees better in the shadows?

This is his first night as a Delta Guard. Finally, a part of the pack and not just a litter pup. He runs through the woods, feeling the tree branches snap as he passes them by. Squirrels and rabbits, foxes and deers, all make way as they sense him near. Is this what freedom feels like? Is this what power is? The wilderness calls and he answers.

And then there was a snap– a twig breaking but it wasn’t from him. The chirping of crickets died down, the croaking of frogs silenced. Even the leaves stopped rustling. As if every creature has suddenly gone into hiding. Which could only mean one thing– a predator is near.

The young wolf stopped. His every sense is awake, watchful, cautious. And then there was a scent. Of something unfamiliar. They were taught since they were very young, the unknown is dangerous– and he might not see it, but he knows, he’s within the presence of something, someone dangerous.

From the corner of his eye he saw something moved. And as he looked he found a squirrel. He felt a relief course through him. It’s his first night, nothing ever happens on the first night.

And then as fast as it went, faster did it come back– that looming, menacing presence. For just ten metres away stood a hooded figure. And it was looking right at him. Dark as the night itself, silent as the wind. He can see nothing of it, other than how its eyes glowed. And then it ran. Not towards him. But somewhere else. Somewhere– the Dragon Gate.

The young wolf sprinted, his body already knowing what that thing was before his mind could process what was happening. How could it not when they’ve been fighting its kind for centuries. It is embedded in their blood. Part of their very being.