Rhapsody in D. - First Movement - The Black Wolf
Posted: Fri Mar 28, 2003 10:33 pm
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Snow half-thawed by the approach of indomitable Spring yielded with a crunch to the paws that ran through it. Red tongues rolled from lean jaws, from between the familiar icicles of clean white teeth. Hot breath misted on the air.
They ran on.
Winter coats thick grey-white, hiding the leanness of the wolves beneath. It had not been an easy winter. Some of the pack's straggling members had died, taken by the chill and by hunger; there was little any of them could do to stop it. They had eaten the fallen; it had been the only way. Survival was their only and ultimate goal in the snow; a stray rabbit poking its head above the white here or there was not enough to feed the pack. And unless they kept their strength up they would never bring down the larger prey - a deer, for example.
It had been the third day after the last had died that the alpha male caught the smell of blood on the wind; in an instant, he was running, and his mate with him; instinct took over, and the wolves were on the move.
Threads of coppery warmth wove between the trees, a trail that led them onward, sending their tongues flapping out of open jaws, their graceful bodies hurtling onward; grey ghosts they were, incarnate in the efficient form of lupine hunters; trunks brushed their flanks, thickets parted at their behest; banks of snow and fallen logs were leapt over in their passage.
They found it in a clearing formed only by the death of one great tree.
Blood pooled in the snow, steaming. Wisps of the stuff rose in vaporous come-hither gestures from the fat, coiled intestines that lay unfurled; virgin raiments stained by the issue of a slain stag. A great beast indeed was he, but lain now on his side, the great black eyes glossed in death. His throat was torn open and his belly rent asunder; a feast the wolves could not deny drew at the predator's blood within their pounding hearts.
If they had not been so overcome by instinct the creatures might well have been cautious, might have wondered at the might that would have been used to bring down such a majestic beast as this stag, king of the forest; they might, too, have considered why such a magnificent meal would be fresh-killed but unnattended. But hunger is an insistent and thoughtless master.
The alpha drew himself forward, barking sharply once and snapping at the younger members trying to force past him; he gave a hearty yip as his tongue lolled in the blood upon the snow, and padded soundlessly on.
A black paw came down on the belly of the stag.
The alpha heard his packmates growl and cringe behind him, and looked up to see, perched upon the carcass, the most gigantic wolf he had laid eyes upon in his venerable lifespan.
Coal-black fur bristled about its mighty chest, its thick-set shoulders. Its body held still the lean nature of their kind, despite its size; its bulk would not hinder it, the alpha knew, were a battle to ensue. A patch of silver-white upon its brow was the only other marking; otherwise the monstrous wolf was all black, and its eyes burned fierce and uncannily red above its long muzzle.
It had been there all along. Waiting for them.
The alpha growled in response, hanging back, cautious; but the pack behind him were pacing, starving; he could almost hear his mate's belly rumble. He padded forward, snapped for the meat; the huge wolf leapt from the back of the carcass and landed in the snow - his paws left no prints.
The scarred grey alpha turned to face the giant. The pack watched anxiously, the alpha female most of all; the possibility of her mate's death was not lost upon her animal mind, for he children of nature in all their myriad forms felt more than human beings had ever imagined. And the dish of the moment was fear.
The pleas of his pack drove the alpha to snap first for the black wolf, but its muzzle darted swiftly out of the way and he felt it pass his flank like a ghost; it was faster than it should have been, and the alpha felt the chill of fear in knowing he had underestimated his foe; he twisted, pulled away from the snap of jaws he knew would come, and brought himself in an about-face; bumping the haunch of the dead stag, he lunged in low, trying to get his jaws under the throat of the black wolf.
The giant's white teeth clamped over the scruff of the smaller wolf's neck and its head swung; the alpha was lifted from his feet and with a flailing whimper flung away, slamming against the fallen tree that marked this clearing; dust and ice and flakes of bark drifted around him as he took to his feet once more, limping. The Black Wolf was waiting.
Pain hazed the alpha's mind as he staggered, barked harshly against the sharpness in his ribs, and leapt.
The Black Wolf moved; it sprang sideways, kicked its hind legs off the trunk of a tree in a nigh-impossible movement, and struck the flank of the wounded alpha. Its fangs tore hard into the alpha's side; he felt the hot wash of blood and the rough tongue of the monster-wolf; then, inexplicably, the Black Wolf pulled away, and the alpha saw its chance. Lunging, he bit into the neck of the Black Wolf.
The haze cleared; all was sharp, senses multiplied. He tasted the blood of the monster, sweet and tingling, dulling his inhibitions, pulling him to drink more. Panic wriggled like a pinned snake in the back of the alpha's consciousness, begging him to pull away.
His fangs slipped from the fur and flesh of his foe, and the alpha staggered; the ebon Fenris turned its eyes upon his own; red ice. They trapped the field of the alpha's vision. He knew then that he had been tricked, that the monster wolf had poisoned him somehow; but then the giant was moving forward, and the eyes were bearing down on him. Suddenly, the wolf no longer seemed quite such a monster; suddenly, its mercy was apparent, and its benevolence. Suddenly, it was a long-lost father offering forgiveness to its errant son, humbled and defeated.
The alpha bowed his head; the giant's muzzle dipped, and licked the bloody wound, groomed the alpha's flank. Pain dulled and faded slowly.
The hazy eyes of the alpha lifted again; now, in adoration.
The pack crept forward, cautiously, and one by one they saw the proud eyes of the Black Wolf, and knew why it had gathered them there. Not to destroy them; but to lead them.
The Black Wolf released an echoing howl; a cry to the lunar mother, blessing her children's feast; the blood of the stag ran hot still; the bellies of the packmates would not go empty tonight. And tomorrow they would run with the dawn, at their new master's call.
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Snow half-thawed by the approach of indomitable Spring yielded with a crunch to the paws that ran through it. Red tongues rolled from lean jaws, from between the familiar icicles of clean white teeth. Hot breath misted on the air.
They ran on.
Winter coats thick grey-white, hiding the leanness of the wolves beneath. It had not been an easy winter. Some of the pack's straggling members had died, taken by the chill and by hunger; there was little any of them could do to stop it. They had eaten the fallen; it had been the only way. Survival was their only and ultimate goal in the snow; a stray rabbit poking its head above the white here or there was not enough to feed the pack. And unless they kept their strength up they would never bring down the larger prey - a deer, for example.
It had been the third day after the last had died that the alpha male caught the smell of blood on the wind; in an instant, he was running, and his mate with him; instinct took over, and the wolves were on the move.
Threads of coppery warmth wove between the trees, a trail that led them onward, sending their tongues flapping out of open jaws, their graceful bodies hurtling onward; grey ghosts they were, incarnate in the efficient form of lupine hunters; trunks brushed their flanks, thickets parted at their behest; banks of snow and fallen logs were leapt over in their passage.
They found it in a clearing formed only by the death of one great tree.
Blood pooled in the snow, steaming. Wisps of the stuff rose in vaporous come-hither gestures from the fat, coiled intestines that lay unfurled; virgin raiments stained by the issue of a slain stag. A great beast indeed was he, but lain now on his side, the great black eyes glossed in death. His throat was torn open and his belly rent asunder; a feast the wolves could not deny drew at the predator's blood within their pounding hearts.
If they had not been so overcome by instinct the creatures might well have been cautious, might have wondered at the might that would have been used to bring down such a majestic beast as this stag, king of the forest; they might, too, have considered why such a magnificent meal would be fresh-killed but unnattended. But hunger is an insistent and thoughtless master.
The alpha drew himself forward, barking sharply once and snapping at the younger members trying to force past him; he gave a hearty yip as his tongue lolled in the blood upon the snow, and padded soundlessly on.
A black paw came down on the belly of the stag.
The alpha heard his packmates growl and cringe behind him, and looked up to see, perched upon the carcass, the most gigantic wolf he had laid eyes upon in his venerable lifespan.
Coal-black fur bristled about its mighty chest, its thick-set shoulders. Its body held still the lean nature of their kind, despite its size; its bulk would not hinder it, the alpha knew, were a battle to ensue. A patch of silver-white upon its brow was the only other marking; otherwise the monstrous wolf was all black, and its eyes burned fierce and uncannily red above its long muzzle.
It had been there all along. Waiting for them.
The alpha growled in response, hanging back, cautious; but the pack behind him were pacing, starving; he could almost hear his mate's belly rumble. He padded forward, snapped for the meat; the huge wolf leapt from the back of the carcass and landed in the snow - his paws left no prints.
The scarred grey alpha turned to face the giant. The pack watched anxiously, the alpha female most of all; the possibility of her mate's death was not lost upon her animal mind, for he children of nature in all their myriad forms felt more than human beings had ever imagined. And the dish of the moment was fear.
The pleas of his pack drove the alpha to snap first for the black wolf, but its muzzle darted swiftly out of the way and he felt it pass his flank like a ghost; it was faster than it should have been, and the alpha felt the chill of fear in knowing he had underestimated his foe; he twisted, pulled away from the snap of jaws he knew would come, and brought himself in an about-face; bumping the haunch of the dead stag, he lunged in low, trying to get his jaws under the throat of the black wolf.
The giant's white teeth clamped over the scruff of the smaller wolf's neck and its head swung; the alpha was lifted from his feet and with a flailing whimper flung away, slamming against the fallen tree that marked this clearing; dust and ice and flakes of bark drifted around him as he took to his feet once more, limping. The Black Wolf was waiting.
Pain hazed the alpha's mind as he staggered, barked harshly against the sharpness in his ribs, and leapt.
The Black Wolf moved; it sprang sideways, kicked its hind legs off the trunk of a tree in a nigh-impossible movement, and struck the flank of the wounded alpha. Its fangs tore hard into the alpha's side; he felt the hot wash of blood and the rough tongue of the monster-wolf; then, inexplicably, the Black Wolf pulled away, and the alpha saw its chance. Lunging, he bit into the neck of the Black Wolf.
The haze cleared; all was sharp, senses multiplied. He tasted the blood of the monster, sweet and tingling, dulling his inhibitions, pulling him to drink more. Panic wriggled like a pinned snake in the back of the alpha's consciousness, begging him to pull away.
His fangs slipped from the fur and flesh of his foe, and the alpha staggered; the ebon Fenris turned its eyes upon his own; red ice. They trapped the field of the alpha's vision. He knew then that he had been tricked, that the monster wolf had poisoned him somehow; but then the giant was moving forward, and the eyes were bearing down on him. Suddenly, the wolf no longer seemed quite such a monster; suddenly, its mercy was apparent, and its benevolence. Suddenly, it was a long-lost father offering forgiveness to its errant son, humbled and defeated.
The alpha bowed his head; the giant's muzzle dipped, and licked the bloody wound, groomed the alpha's flank. Pain dulled and faded slowly.
The hazy eyes of the alpha lifted again; now, in adoration.
The pack crept forward, cautiously, and one by one they saw the proud eyes of the Black Wolf, and knew why it had gathered them there. Not to destroy them; but to lead them.
The Black Wolf released an echoing howl; a cry to the lunar mother, blessing her children's feast; the blood of the stag ran hot still; the bellies of the packmates would not go empty tonight. And tomorrow they would run with the dawn, at their new master's call.