The Hungry Wolf in New Chapter

There was once a hungry wolf. He had strayed off from his pack days ago, leaving what he knew behind him. He set off across the woods in the dark of night, nose pressed to the ground. He thought he smelled home this way and he padded along swiftly, leaving no paw prints, breaking no branches as he passed. His stomach gurgled, the wild hunt had gone silent. None of the animals were there, no one hid underground, no songs came from above. It was only the wolf, the slowing pace of his paws and the hunger that wouldn’t be ignored. He hung his head low, trying to pick up the scent that had gone cold. Chase two rabbits and you’ll catch none, he thought to himself. GURGLE. His stomach angrily churned and roiled, crying to be satisfied. There were no meals in sight, just a familiar glimpse of another phantom canine. If he looked at it too long, it would disappear, so at first, the wolf thought it was just his stomach playing tricks on him.

He rested on a rock nestled on a small hill, the jagged outcropping lit up by a sliver of moonlight that fought it’s way through the dark canopy overhead. He thought this should be different, home smelled so close and then it was gone again. Tired paws strained to push his aching body up, swaying with a hungry haze. He took off again, not sure where he was headed. After several hours of wading through brackish peets and across bleak meadows, the wolf stopped at the edge of a wooded glen. His eyes closed gratefully, legs shivering with exhaustion and-GURGLE- still no food. He would rest here just a moment, to catch his breath, before he got up and continued on. As the wolf laid his head down on his paws, he caught a silver flash out of the corner of his eye. It had been deep in the. woods, further than he could imagine going without any food. Another flash and the hackles rose along his back. Instinct took over and adrenaline gave him the energy he needed to jump to his feet and start into the glen, weaving amongst roots and low hanging branches.

Nose lifted in the air, the wolf took several deep breaths. This was something new, the spectral smell of a phantom winded its way up through his nostrils, along the sinuses and curled its ribbons of seduction around his mind. The wolf hopped over several trees and then he was there, a small clearing in the center of the glade, bathed in night silver. The phantom wolf was sitting there, still as could be, and if not for the breathing, the exhausted wolf might not have noticed the ghost sitting there in the cold light. He stopped short, letting the phantom’s smell fill his lungs,, his veins, the space between his ears. When he closed his eyes, he did nothing but listen to what happened next. The silver specter slowly started towards the hungry wolf, confident in the pregnant silence. It didn’t expect the tired wolf to lunge forward, teeth bared and gums blurring as he dove in for the kill. A loud crunch of canines on bone rang across the glen and the hangry wolf ferociously shook its head.

SNAP and it was done, GURGLE and it was gone, HOWLS and it was alone.