Howl To Remember

I wake at first light, to the unforgiving howl of the harsh winter winds, and rise from my alpine abode of shrubbery. Using my strong hind legs, I shake my body, violently shooting a fine white mist in all directions as the cold blanket of snow I slept under dissipates around me. I begin to amble aimlessly around my territory, leaving my still-sleeping pack behind to use my strong senses to search for food.

I catch the scent of prey prancing along downwind with the ever-falling, feather like flakes. Both of which seemed to end their whimsical dance at the end of my snout. I set out on a lonesome, hunger-fuelled quest for food and my primitive instincts take hold of my mind as I find myself sprinting towards the hopeful smell of an early morning meal.

After mere minutes of following the sweet scent I stumble upon the putrid corpse of a malnourished deer. Its meat is too far gone and maggots have already infested its decomposing flesh. The horrific stench blocks my nostrils and I lose track of where the preys scent originated. Therefore, with my shoulders hunched and my head drooped, I begin to traipse back to my woodland dwelling.

On my returning journey I am struck by a shattering sound, I hurry my pace to examine the cause of the racket and as my gaze rises over the edge of a hillside, my view expands and I cannot help but to marvel at the Arcadian paradise that unfolds before my eyes while beams of daylight rain down upon the serendipitous land.

It becomes clear to me where the shattering emerged from when, out of the corner of my eye, I notice a multitude of animals crowded around a frozen lake. A jagged hole has appeared at its centre and there is a helpless creature making futile efforts to escape as icy teeth bite at his feet, pulling him down into the icy depths. A few air bubbles rise to the surface to signify the poor creatures demise and the surrounding animals disperse into the sparse trees and bushes once the spectacle was over, and there was nothing of further interest to look upon.

Continuing on my journey home I reflect on losing my hunt, I could almost taste the bloody meat in my mouth and my stomach still yearned for food. My pack was most likely awake by this time, perhaps they themselves had found feed for the day, and maybe, just maybe they had left some for me.

When I tread sombrely back into my den my weary heart fills with pride and excitement as I look up to see my pack, ready and waiting for me, sitting pertly over the freshly dead body of an elk. Primitive instincts again take hold of me as I dig my sharp teeth into the creatures' flesh, savagely ripping what was left of him apart. It only takes me a few minutes before I consider myself satisfied and decide to retire to my abode of shrubbery.

However, just before I go to lay down, I look into the eyes of each member of my pack and nod my head in thanks. It is only now that I realise that a single wolf is missing. Dread creeps through my veins until it reaches my core and my heart skips a beat as a tear forms in my eye. The realisation that I watched the death of one of my own and could not do anything to help is slowly dawning upon me. The rest of my wolves sit around me and get ready to sing.

For tonight, we howl in sadness. . . we howl to remember.