The Rogue Mate

Chapter Three.

“God dammit.” I said sliding off Obi, staring at the mangled horse corpse; its throat had been torn out and whatever killed it had absolutely decimated it. The horse had been only a few years old and I know that my uncle had put a lot of work into its training.

“Ya’ think ‘s a wolf?” Ernest asked, staring at the paw marks surrounding the carcass.

My mind flashed back to the shadow and prints I’d seen at Pine Hills and the three other cows we’d found in the last month; this was the first time it’d killed a horse though. “Recon so.” It was frustrating to watch this predator taking our animals and for the past week I’d been camping out with one of my uncle’s old guns, watching, waiting.  “I’m going to kill this fuckin’ wolf and make it into a rug.” I said angrily, running my hand over the horse’s flank, my hand coming back covered in semi dried blood. This had been one of the most promising mares and now it was dead and I was pissed. “Now it’s personal.”

-

I breathed in the night air as I sat crouched in the underbrush, a week after the horse had been mauled, staring out at the cow I’d left as bait. My finger rested on the trigger as my eyes combed through the darkness, searching for the shadow.

Hours passed and I thought that once again I’d missed my window, until to my right, a bush began rustling. I froze, holding my breath as a figure emerged and stifled a sigh when I registered that it was not a wolf, but in fact a coyote.

I was ready to pack it up and head home as dawn was approaching, when the coyote raised its head, took one look to the east and fled. My brow furrowed as I swivelled the barrel to where the coyote had looked and peered through the scope, searching for anything in the dull light.

It took a couple of seconds until my eyes registered a great, hulking shape emerging from the long grass. Its eyes practically glowed as it slowly edged towards the carcass, ears twitching, eyes scanning its surroundings; thank god I was downwind from it.

I aimed for its head, a nice, quick and painless death; it would be dead before it would feel anything. I hated the fact it killed my stock but I wasn’t cruel and I did understand that it was a predator. Slowly I let out the breath I’d been holding and just as I began to squeeze the trigger, the wolf’s head snapped to where I was hidden, glowing eyes practically pinning me in place.

I froze, staring right into its eyes; they were so… intelligent, not like any animal I’d seen before. I hesitated, my finger on the trigger as we continued to stare at each other. I felt entirely stupid; this was the wolf I’d been hunting for weeks and now when I had the chance, I was hesitating.

I swallowed thickly, blinked and pursed my lips as I squeezed the trigger; but in an instant it was gone and I was left wide eyed and confused as the bullet missed its mark- normal wolves didn’t move that fast.

“Shit.” My muscles protested as I stood, walking out into the open as I flicked on my torch and began looking for tracks. Every time I came out to the ranch, my uncle and I would always go fishing, shooting and riding; when I turned twelve he let me join on the annual camp out and I loved it.

The tracks were faint but they were there. I was careful to take note of my surroundings as I followed the path the wolf had taken until the sun began its slow accent in the sky. I walked for hours; my hair plastered against my neck as sweat gathered on my skin and trickled down my back.

I heard a whine in the distance as the wolf’s tracks veered in the opposite direction. Slowly I approached, brushing tree limbs out of the way. The coppery smell of blood hit my nose and another whine reached my ears. I was in one of the lesser used paddocks and the grass was waist high so when I saw a dark shape I headed straight for it.