She doesnt remember when the dense forest turned to rocky and rolling plains, but she does remember that he looked like sunshine. His sunbaked skin was the same hue of his deer brown hair.
He laid on a hill covered in clovers, striping a leaf from it's steam. Then taking this disembodied leaf, and blowing on it until it remained in the air. The levitating leaf played a game of tag with his almond lips.
His flock of sheep was grazing on the sweet grass in the valley. Much to her surprise he did not notice her.
'Careless' she thought. 'Doesn't he know there are things with teeth and claws in these wilds.'
She crouched lower, hugging the ground. The sea of grass embraced her and hid her tawny wolf from view.
The hunger in her stomach was as dangerous as any frostbite or infectious fever. She hadn't eaten in a week. The muscle cramps were painful, signs of true hunger.
The need for food has become dire. Luckily an old ewe has gotten too comfortable for her own good, an easy life has left her vulnerable. She made the mistake of wandering to far from the heard and the Shepard.
She struck the ewe's neck with meaning, wanting the kill to be done quietly.
The tawny wolf was trying to contain her hunger, as she ate the nutrient rich organs. She needed to pace herself or else her kill would be puked up.
The sleepless nights and burning hunger had left her senses dull, giving the boy an opportunity to strike the theft.
The tawny wolf lay limp in the sweet valley grass, as the shepherd stood above her with a bloody crook in his hand.
'Careless' he thought. 'Doesn't this thing with teeth and claws know it's not alone in these wilds. Men dwell in these lands.'
YOU ARE READING
War's Bride
WerewolfRed The goddess is clothed in his favorite color. He is painting my homeland in it. His teeth are his paintbrush and I am his muse. The song of my people rings in the mountains, but the hymns fall on deaf ears of our gods. The tribeswomen's cries a...
