I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe it. I was so sure of myself as I left the clearing, full of nervous excitement. But now, as I'm approaching the border... I'm really doing it. I'm really leaving the pack.
Since I planned this day really well, I can feel the beginnings of hunger pangs already. Probably should've eaten before I left. I slog through the border, an old creek, shake out my fur, and lift my nose to the air. River water, cold air off the mountains, rotting leaves, and... rabbit. Perfect.
Now, rabbits aren't like deer; you can't chase them down, tire them out. You've got to stealth it out, staying downwind and out of sight. Being black and white, I've never been very good at the latter. At night, the white glows. In snow, the black stands out. Needless to say, I'm not - I wasn't - a favourite for hunting, so I'm pretty out of practice. Unfortunately, I'm now a pack of one. I'm the best, and only hunter. I'll have to try.
Hmm... I pat at the mud I'm standing in, created by the water I've shaken off. I've never hunted so near the river before, and this gives me an idea. After all, the river's right there to wash off in.
A few rolls and I'm completely covered in mud. This'll blend into the forest better than my patchy pelt, though it is a bit unpleasant, feeling it drip off my back.
Now, to find that rabbit. I set off through the forest, sticking to brambles and bracken; the more hidden I am, the better. It's not long before I spot my prey. Perched on a grassy tussock, nibbling on a green sprig, it's an easy target, so long as I keep quiet.
And then, as I'm leaping out to give chase, it happens. I step on a stick. The rabbit flicks up an ear at the small crack, sees me, and bolts. I dart after it, cursing inwardly; despite all my disguising and strategy, this hunt has turned into the very chase I'd hoped to avoid. The rabbit cuts a zig-zagging, frenzied path through the forest, and I stay on its tail as best I can. I'm so intent on my prey, I don't even see what trips me up.
My paw falls out from under me, and then catches. I go tumbling to the ground, nose first, and the rabbit disappears. Breathing hard, I scramble into a standing position and turn back to see what I stepped in. A rabbit hole. Go figure.
My stomach rumbles and, glancing down, I realize I'm holding the paw I tripped on off the ground. Gingerly, I attempt to put some weight on it, but pick it back up with a yelp and a flash of pain. Great. Just great. My first day out, and I've twisted my paw. Badly. "What a way to begin," I mutter to myself.
After a moment, I limp over to the closest shelter I can see; a fallen log, propped up at one end by the very stump it was once attached to. I dislodge quite a bit of dust as I attempt to settle into a comfortable position. 'The best cure for an injury is sleep', my mother once told me. By the smell of it, this log once sheltered a fox. I hope they don't come back.
"Are you alright?"
---
A/N: Fun fact: I wrote this the day after Day 1. Ready to meet a new character?
YOU ARE READING
A Golden Hope (a wolf pack story)
AventuraDISCLAIMER: I know this story is subpar. Read if you want :P Holstin is an ordinary member of the Starl Woods Pack, until she up and decides to leave and start her own. She's tired of being treated like an omega, and so sets out on a glorious adven...
