The Wolf and the Chameleon

Coming and Going

The wind was blowing quietly and the slate-gray wolf shuddered as he trekked through the rocky mountains. It wasn't raining, but the dark clouds gathered overhead. Any one who believed in superstitions would say that this was a bad omen- thunderclouds without rain, and the dark wolf believed it. Something bad, no, not just bad, something evil was coming. Deliciously evil. The wolf licked his lips hungrily.

When thunder cracked loudly, the wolf used that to his advantage as he slunk toward the mining village. His fur brushed up against the rocky pathways as he scanned the terrain ahead of him. The best part of the hunt- besides the kill, of course- was the absolute adrenaline rush of finding and stalking prey.

A mining operation, full of sheep, lay ahead of him. The sheep exchanged brief greetings with each other as they picked at the mountain of stone. Some used interesting technology to bash enormous boulders into pebbles. Others brushed the pebbles into carts, which were then taken away down the mountain.

The wolf watched as one sheep, pushing a heavy cart of stone, slipped and landed face-down on the road. He bleated quickly in pain as his knee was scraped before getting up. After inspecting his knee and deciding it was fine, he continued pushing his cart toward the path down the mountain, now lightly favoring one leg.

When the wind shifted, the light smell of blood reached the wolf's nose, and he practically salivated as he watched the sheep walk towards him. The canine stood on one end of a wooden bridge, his hackles raised and his lips curled in morbid delight as the sheep finally caught sight of him.

The torches on either side of the wolf illuminated his features perfectly for the sheep to see, but the wolf didn't worry about being spotted. The sheep froze as he saw the wolf on the opposite end of the wooden walkway.

His slate grey body was covered in leather and metal armor. Both his eyes glowed ruby red, and his pointed muzzle was pulled back to reveal razor-sharp teeth.

The sheep must've felt his heart drop to his hooves when the wolf growled hungrily. His scream echoed throughout the mountains when the wolf lunged.

Around the corner, the sheep's coworkers raised their heads in alarm, scanning each other's faces in confusion.

"What was that?"

"It wasn't me..."

"It came from over there!"

But before any of the sheep were able to muster up the courage to go investigate, a large figure appeared on a scaffolding before them. The workers all huddled together in fear as they took in the sight.

The wolf, holding the dead sheep in his mouth by the throat, growled at the herd below. He slowly, deliberately, dropped the dead sheep in his mouth. The sheep's eyes were frozen in fear, his lips open in a silent cry. Blood dripped from the wolf's mouth and he panted- not from tiredness or exhaustion, but from the adrenaline and excitement in his veins

The rams gasped in fear, shock, and panic as the wolf hungrily eyed the miners below. But their fear turned into horrified terror when the wolf kicked the dead sheep off the scaffolding. The body tumbled, crashing into carts and wooden posts before landing- broken- in front of his former coworkers.

Screams of terror, fear, and anguish rose from the crowd as the wolf barked, "Listen well, each of you!" His red and white teeth flashed in the torchlight. The sheep, huddled even closer than before, stared in fright up at the attacker.

"Yes, little sheep, I'm back. The true alpha has returned." The wolf snarled, his tail thrashing to and fro in anticipation.

"But... you're dead..." One of the rams stuttered, his voice barely audible to those not immediately around him.