new day | ✔

xiv

Grief did not come to River.

She was about as cold as a Siberian winter and as thick as a brick wall. No different than a rock who refused to crack.

The luminous moon was no longer in the centre of the sky, but nearing the horizon. Though it was still dark, the land casted in a tenebrous obscurity, little did River know that today was the last night of darkness.

Her ears were pulled flat against her head, trudging with a visible limp, and bones protruding from her derma. The lone wolf's steps were beginning to fall heavy and lousy, barely lifted off of the ground, grazing against the snow and leaving eerie looking tracks.

River's mind was blank. She had nothing to think about, nothing to mourn or forget. As a wolf, her mind wouldn't waver from the past to future, it was solely fixated to the present.

However, the fracturing and crackling of a stick had caught her off guard, and in the midst of a panicked second, she let out a yelp and prickled with fear. Her triangular ears alert, veering around to catch even the slightest intake of breath. River's eyes darted between the trees in the cracked darkness.

The being that had caused the sound seemed to have heard a wolf's cry, and was heading right towards her. From what River could hear, it was large.
The rustling of branches and leaves depicted a body brushing against plants, and the heavy footsteps and pants.

Quivering with fear from what she could not see, not smell, the silver wolf was on the peak of breaking. Her hind legs sinking to the snow, shaking, and eyes wide from an undetermined threat. She could no longer handle it, and like coiled springs, she shot up into the air and loped into a sprint.

The animal behind her, too, understood that she wanted to escape. The footsteps came down to the verdure harder then before, and the warm presence of a body came closer.

It was very risky, but while in full-speed, River twisted her neck to shoot a glance at her pursuer.

Short, tan and brown fur rooted over a huge, hefty body. Drooping bloodshot eyes and sagging obsidian jowls. 120 pounds of pure, drooling, dog.

Contorting her face into a snarl, she jerked her head back to face the front, only to come crashing into the coarse trunk of a tree. River's black nose came in contact quite harshly with the wood, and fell backwards, snout screaming in agony. The dog at her heels made a leap of glory, and pounced onto her, landing in her fragile ribcage.

Pivoting her snout to the animal, she hissed and dove her jaws into his foreleg. With a bark of pain, the dog attempted to close his mouth over her neck. Yet his actions where clumsy and sluggish. The large canine was only useful for brute strength and tackles. River, however, was a wolf.

Leaner. Agile. Crafty.

She never understood dogs. They weren't much use - just large, bumbling animals who didn't serve much of a purpose. Dogs were just creatures created by Man, useful for nothing except entertainment.

Humans. They were always trying to find other ways to turn an animal into a slave.

Dodging his attack, she wriggled out of his pin, and dragged her aching physique on the snow. Licking the blood off of her lips, she stood up on unsteady limbs, facing the pooch.

He gave her a thundering bark, on that bounced off trees and shook the ground. Tucking her tail between her haunches, River sinked to the floor, ready to spring at any given moment.

The foe started after her, and she whirled around, her legs carrying her further away. Adrenaline was pumped through her veins, allowing her to run faster. Run longer. Stay stronger.

But perhaps Mother Nature was just really insistent on killing the wolf, and that she wouldn't be content until River's heart had stopped beating.

Quite abruptly, as the she-wolf landed from a stride, something wrapped around the ankle of her hind leg. She was swung upwards, feet lifted off of the snow in the fraction of a second and thrown backwards. The world was just a dark blur of black, blue an ivory as River went buffeting through the jagged branches of the trees.

Their sharp twigs slashed at her face, drawing blood to the surface. All of a sudden, River fell back into the snow, the earth submerged in a ringing silence. Recovering from her shock, she tried to stand up, but was pulled back down by her immobilized ankle. Blinking, a thin, metal wire was gripped against her leg, the cold material digging into her skin.

River tried everything. Her leg was broken, twisted in such an angle that it was revolting to even look at. She couldn't drag herself away, for the wire was too tight. Nothing could break it; claws nor teeth.

Absorbed in escaping the grasp of the metal hoop, she only looked up when a defying click sounded in front of her. All she saw was the barrel of a gun. Frozen in pure fear, she could only watch as a callous finger pulled the trigger.

An echoing bang ran through the forest, as River felt a repulsing spurt of blood ooze out of her thigh, staining the innocent white canvas of snow with a touch of Man.