The Wolf (Book 1)

The Man on the Hill

It was the beginning of June and over 2 months since I had been on my first hunt.

As I darted between the trees I could only think of the man on the hill, I hadn’t seen him in around 2 weeks and I never managed to catch him. I was faster now, much faster which meant I was better.

In two months I managed to be able to shift standing in less than a minute without any pain and no blacking out. I could shift individual body parts and I was working on shifting without having to be relaxed, for example shifting whilst running.

The buck that ran in front of me was pretty big, a ten pointer I think, must have weighed quite a bit as well, around 200lbs I think which is roughly 90Kg or something like that.

Fast thing as well, and at first I wouldn’t have been able to catch him but now I was the fastest thing around, I could outrun any deer and they didn’t stand a chance. I was pretty also pretty strong, on my own I could take down pretty much every doe and most bucks, this big buck was the biggest I had tried so far and the risks of being hurt were pretty big, chances of killing it were pretty small. I leapt over a fallen down tree and kept running, my paws thundering along the ground, I could be quieter if I needed to be but this time I took joy in being loud because I could afford the noise I was making.

I now knew these woods better than I had before; I knew every game trail, every shortcut, every burrow and every hot spot for prey here. This was my territory now and nothing could beat me here.

I ran up to the side of the buck, it seemed scared and it turned left.

“No, No, No.” I repeated to myself in my head, the dumb buck had gone left, why would it go towards one of the widest and deepest parts of the river, it was a pretty big jump and it was in a ditch, about 2 meters high.

The buck jumped right  over it and I followed. I leapt across and time seemed to slow down, I looked down below and saw the drop and the painful landing I would get, sticks, stones and a bunch of branches I could be impaled on, just my luck.

Ahead of me was the other side, the deer stumbled as it landed slowing it down slightly, I kept my tail back in a straight line, I knew it wouldn’t help me physically but mentally it did. I landed front paws first and as soon as they touched the ground the chase was back on and time seemed to go back to normal.

I tore down a small game trail which I knew and after a few seconds of losing sight of him I found myself above him on a hill. He had no option but to either stop or turn to where I was going. The deer decided to turn and was going to cross my path in seconds.

The deer crossed my path at exactly the right moment. I leapt forwards landing on his side, tearing his flesh with my claws and biting down on its back. He lost his balance which caused him to fall over sending me flying to ground, I rolled over twice and got back up before he realised he was even on the floor, I clamped my jaws shut on his neck and started to tighten my hold. I felt his windpipe being crushed as he started to lack oxygen. I snapped down again this time severing his spinal cord which caused instant death. I didn’t really like to give my prey much pain, wasn’t fair on them.

I let go and took two steps back admiring my kill; the biggest one so far.

I smiled and took a bite out of its shoulder then one from its rear hip, these were my favourite parts, I don’t know why they just were, I rarely got to the insides and I didn’t care much for liver.

As I swallowed a piece of meat a man came out from what seemed to be nowhere but I knew he must have been hiding in the ferns or behind a tree.

“Bravo,” he said as he clapped “That really is an impressive kill, your best so far isn’t it?” he said this as if he knew me, as if he knew who I was and knew what I had done in the past... and maybe he did know.