Dark Wolf

Chapter 1 🐺

There's a cold wind blowing through dark forest trees. Snow whips in circles through the blustery frigid night.

It's cold, beyond cold, the snow piled high with windchills that are falling dangerously low.

Tall trees crack and creek with each howling blast of freezing wind.

The forest is dark, the storm making it seem even darker than usual tonight.

Through the bustle and blowing winds something else howls in the distance.

A large dark wolf moves wearily through the snow-driven winds.

Large head down, ears laying low sideways on a powerful head.

His steps are slow, vision not only blurred by the relentless winds and snow but by the weakness of blood loss.

The large animal stops, head dipped low panting hard against the pain and exhaustion he feels from the hunter's arrows that have pierced through his body with ease.

There's one in his upper shoulder and one near his rib cage.

He's broken off most of the wooden arrow with powerful teeth but has left them intact knowing that if he pulls them all the way out fully he'll bleed out in the snow.

The animal shifts his gaze to the arrow still planted in his side growling and snarling at the thing and the hunter who had the audacity to shoot him not once but twice.

Wolf eyes change direction to look out over the forest through dark stormy trees seeing the far-off distant silhouette of the kingdom lit by torchlight and candles in kingdom homes. It's far, too far.

He grunts against the agony that shoots through a powerful muscled shoulder as he begins to move again.

He doesn't want to if he's honest. If he's honest he wants to lay down in the snow, let the cold numb the ache, and fall into a deep slumber.

But he can't because he knows if he does he won't wake up, not this time, this time is worse than the ones before, this time the arrows are bigger, deeper, and did more damage.

The wolf forces himself on, a trail of prints and blood left behind.

He's not even sure the hunter who dealt the blows is gone, he was able to outrun him a hundred feet or so but he knows he'll be tracked and tried to be done in finally.

He knows because this is not the first time, but he wonders as he begins to grow more fatigued if this will in fact be his last.

The animal is tired, every step making strong legs feel like lead tied to his paws.

He growls deep from his throat eyes narrowed because this is not how he wants to go out, no this dark wolf wants to go out in a blaze of glory on some battlefield or on the cobblestone streets fighting for a now far-off kingdom.

There is some kind of noise behind him, a set of branches breaking underfoot.

He turns his head quickly, raising his face to the wind and smelling.

It's the hunter from the other end of the woods.

' Shit'

Large legs lunge forward against the pain as he wills himself to move. He pushes himself further faster paws hitting the ground swiftly causing snow to fly under them.

He's panting hard eyes getting heavier, there's a deep growl in the air a howl that is breaking through the cold winter storm, one that has stirred a sleeping omega tailor in a small cottage in the forest.

The male jumps up from his sleep feeling his heart beating rapidly unsure of what he just heard.

He steadies himself, forcing his startled breaths to slow so he can listen.