GREY

The Hunt

Head down

Shoulders stiff

Eyes focused

Hunt

The smell of easy prey invades my nostrils, eyes locking onto the rabbit bounding along the forest floor in the distance. My paw held still above the ground as my wolf comes to a complete halt, its eyes boring into the back of its preys head. One paw in front of the other the stalk begins.

Ever so carefully avoiding the sea of discolored leaves that cover the forest floor she blends in with the rest of the forests still trees. Any second now she is going to pounce, and feed on the innocent rabbit.

The soft breeze makes the fur on my wolfs back rise and fall with each gentle gust, a slight pick up in the winds speed allows her to move faster towards the naive prey. The rabbit sits up on its back feet, tiny paws held to its chests its eyes scout the area. But its too late.

Momentarily leaning on her back legs she pounces forward with all her force soaring through the air and pounding against the forest floor again, leaves fly through the air and birds leap into the sky, their calls echo through the trees at the loss of life.

Teeth tear into skin, white fur becoming stained in red. Her jaw crushes the rabbits neck with the littlest amount of force tearing the life away from the small prey. Holding the rabbit under her claws her front teeth tear the delicate meet from its bones gulping it down...greedily.

Soon there lies a pile of fresh bones coated in blood and meat, no other evidence that they once belonged to an animal with a beating heart and a want to live. She licks her snout clean removing the blood to reveal her white and golden fur, her fur matches the color of the dead yellow and orange leaves that litter the floor, sometimes she thinks that if she were to lie down on the floor she would become invisible to the rest of the forest.

Satisfied, for now. She makes her way through the Valley of the Giants, a place she has always known as home. It is here in The Valley of the Giants that she was born, a firstborn to the Alpha male and female - Siroux her mother and Shamus her father - she knows every part of their land like the back of her hand, she can pin point every water body, every mountain range and each dead Giant.

As she nears the pack house she inspects each giant that towers over her, its is quiet obvious as too why these trees are called 'giants' as they tower over everything in the land. Their red bark is peeling away to reveal a white skin, its leaves falling to be replaced with long needles coated in a grey moss, throughout the seasons the giants change significantly in order to cope with the extremes of each season. Personally my favorite season is early autumn when the trees are overflowing with leaves that are turning every color known in the color spectrum, the tree canopies are an indescribable work of art that screams...beauty.

It is during the early autumn when my heritage to this land stands out most, my wolves golden coat reflects a sunset landscape. A landscape that I belong too, and a place that I have come to see as mine.

I am nearing towards the pack houses now, the three main houses standing tall and bold along side the giants. Made from the wood belonging to the giants it will never falter under any conditions that The Valley is faced with as the strong wood is nearly as old as the land itself, its red wood holds carvings from pack wolves over the many generations to be raised here. Each carving telling a story. A story of..

Sacrifice

Dedication to the land

Dedication to the pack