Hunting with the Dogs

The moon shed its empty light upon the mountain-cradled village. All was silent, as everyone was asleep at this hour, aside from a few men that laughed silently in a long-open bar, and so they did not see the curious events that were about to unfold.

Moving through the aisles and rows of houses like a ghost, she walked on her white stalky legs. The air smelled of the sleeping, her stiff ears detected no movement. She padded onward, and luminescent green eyes scanned the area as her head swiveled left and right like a hunting hawk. And that’s just what she was doing, hunting, searching for a stray chicken or an unlocked gate that would lead to snoring mass of black-spotted farm pigs. And she would rip their gullets clean from their throats before they had a chance to squeal in their pain.

A mountain she-wolf. That is what she was, a beautifully built creature that tiptoed wherever she went, silent and serene and lithe. Her kind was mostly killed out of fear by humans and she knew what she was risking by coming here. But she liked to think that the reason she was so hated was purely out of jealousy. Her fur was soft as velvet, her eyes marble-round, glassy, and yellow as the sun, each with a burnt black core. Her nose could detect blood from a mile away. And while she did prefer to hunt wild beasts, as they were tricky, sometimes game hid itself too well and she came here as a last resort.

Human game was all too easy to catch. It was raised by humans and was human in its own way. It didn’t know how to react to the slaughter. The dogs that lived around would occasionally chase the poor critters but were almost always courteous of the other animals. Wolves were not quite so forgiving; some even had trouble with others of their own kind. But the she-wolf did not usually, if she managed to encounter another. Right now she was very much alone and hunting was not going well. She had muscle, but not enough to hide her thin ribs, and the skin hung slack with the fur drooping. She licked her cracked snout and wondered if there was a water collection she could drink from before leaving. Water was so hard to come by-

All of a sudden, a slow snarl began to start from behind her.

She whirled around and backpedaled with her claws spread at their fullest. Her head lowered to reveal raised hackles and she showed her teeth to nothing but the shadows. She dared not growl yet, not wanting to give away her position. In truth, wolves are rather flighty creatures, and the female was no exception.

The she-wolf squinted into the distance, fangs still bared, her sharpest edges ready to stab. Her nostrils widened; a thousand scents entered her nose, and she rooted through them to find the one she searched for. Lightning fast, she found it.

“Get away,” it snapped at her, it’s eyes not quite gleaming in the darkness.

She immediately relaxed. A dog. The descendant of the wolf that joined the humans, worked alongside them. And with a collar clasped to its thick neck.

“Hello, little trapped one,” she sneered, upper lip rising in an amused smirk. “Well, aren’t you going to bark off that ugly head of yours? I’m sure you’re simply dying to alert your beloved humans that I’ve come to wreak my havoc.”

“Beloved,” the dog spat through gritted teeth. “Beloved… humans? I haven’t… any… of those.”

The wolf looked more carefully with her sensitive eyes. His muzzle and body were lined with whitening scars, red smears and purple blotches.

“Well, look where your trust in them has gotten you now,” she tsked with a shake of her thin mane. “A chain on your neck and a couple of deep scrapes. You cannot win against them, dog. Don’t start a war you cannot come out of victoriously.”

“War,” it roared. “I want… a war! That’s what I want. I want… blood.” It licked its lips and clambered up, paws outstretched desperately. “I want your… blood. Die for me.” He lunged at her but the tight collar pulled him back with a strangled squeal.

The she-wolf cocked her head with curious content and settled on her haunches. “What are you?” she asked the flailing canine as it glared at her with its black eyes. “The way your fur grows is unusual. And its texture is quite coarse. Ah… Could it be that you are a wolf-dog?”

It breathed heavily and clawed at the collar that threatened its breathing. “Die,” he repeated, lying on his side with his chest ballooning with his large lungs. “Step forward… Fight me… You… coward.”

“You don’t even know what you are, do you?” she whispered, her voice edged with pity. “They call you wolf-dog, but you are neither. You are a killer. And you can’t even handle yourself. Poor thing.”

“Coward!” it repeated, thick with rage.

“I am no coward,” she answered smoothly. “I know when to fight and when to walk away. Perhaps that is something you should learn, if you wish to last much longer in this life.”

The beast rolled its eyes, showing the whites vividly, and released a feral howl that could easily match her own. An iridescent green bottle flew out an open window and shattered in splinters around its feet, pricking at its skin, causing him to pine distressfully.

“I will leave you now, you helpless monster,” she sniffed. “I can’t have them finding me. I need to survive; you understand, do you not?” She pivoted on her hind legs and sped off just as a raucous human came out of a house to beat the wolf-dog even more for barking.

The she-wolf treaded deeper into the village. She turned a corner and saw a hen roosting on top of a crate, eye closed, neck pushed in so its head could rest comfortably on the pillow of its back. She licked her lips; the perfect prey, completely unaware she was about to spring. She let her hind legs sink, preparing to launch herself at the sleeping bird, when a delighted yip sounded from her left.

“Raska! Is that you?! Long time, no see!”

The chicken hadn’t started and neither had the white wolf, all too knowing of the speaker. Instead she turned slowly in the direction of the voice.

“Tani,” she breathed, “what are you doing here?”

“Same as you. Getting a midnight snack.” The young copper-brown wolf smacked her lips together as she emerged from around the bend. “That looks like a nice prize. Well, you take it. You saw it first, and I’ll never steal from a fellow wolf. Especially one who’s bigger than me.”

“But you will steal from a fellow dog,” Raska snorted. “I have been very worried about you. Running alongside the hunting dogs like some kind of pet… One day, you will fight another one of those canines too harshly, and the humans will not hesitate to shoot you.”

“Don not dote on my so, Ras. You worry too much.” Tani dropped down and scratched behind her ear until her claws reached the itch. “Go on! Kill it. I will not make a sound. I am not so little anymore.”

Raska gave the daring youngster a side glance before turning back to the hen. She trotted forward, and, when she was in range, stretched her mouth forward to grasp the chicken’s small head. A strangled squawk echoed in the she-wolf’s throat but was muffled to human ears. Soon its yellow legs dangled limply from her jaws and she and Tani set forth into the moonlit night.

“Tell me how you have been, then,” Raska encouraged through the mouthful.

“Oh, canines make for such boring companions,” Tani drawled, tongue hanging past her front fangs with disgust, and Raska chuckled at her expression. “Their conversation is so uninteresting, most of it boasting. Then there are the few who try to take me as a mate, but I will not choose them, Raska; any of them with half a mind can see I will simply bite their sorry muzzles. They fight amongst themselves and, yes, it is rather tempting to join. But there isn’t a reason to. Sometimes they just want to display their strength and it just seems so… purposeless. But some of them are wise; the older ones, at least, and have so many great tales to tell about hunting fox. But you get sentimental for the mountains sometimes, you know? I had to come back and tell you before I forgot. And I missed hunting the goats and antelope.”

“Oh; it would interest you to know that I saw a wolf-dog just now,” Raska said spontaneously.

Tani’s eyes widened in excited awe. “Really? There were some dogs I worked with that were half-breeds but none of them wolf-dogs. I hear they are awful fierce. Was this one?”

“Quite,” Raska replied. “A huge brute at that. He did not know how to do anything but threaten; I am sure he could fight but only out of fear. I did not get to close to him to find out. Now do not get any ideas. You are quite daring, even for an adolescent.”

“A wolf-dog… Wow. Oh! Did you know I saw your brother?” Tani grinned slyly.

Raska raised her indistinctive eyebrows. “Really? Kian? Handsome as ever, I take it?”

The young wolf lowered her ears and wagged her tail sheepishly; but she was never embarrassed. “What a glossy coat! He is the prettiest male I’ve ever laid eyes on. He is poetry in motion when he runs, I swear it. How could you have such a nice-looking brother and come out as such an eyesore yourself?”

“And what are you to look at? You still have large paws, like a pup,” Raska teased back. “I think we are far enough from the village. Let me put down my meal and eat.”

The white wolf dropped the chicken at her feet and nosed through the bloodied feathers to get to the flesh. “But please,” she added, chomping around the skinny bones, “keep talking. I want to hear how it was to be a hunter’s ‘dog’.”

“The gunmen are nice enough,” Tani shrugged, settling down next to her companion, “but the rifles terrify me. It sounds like thunder rolling right over you. When I first heard it, I was driven into shock. I stood completely frozen. It shatters your eardrums, that’s what it does. But after a while, you get used to it.” She licked absentmindedly at a brown paw. “I am always ranging at the head of the group. The men do not realize that I am what I am. My pelt is thin, so they believe I am a trained dog just like the rest. Running alongside the others, the feel of the hunt is such a thrill when there are at least fifty of you out in the field, all onto the same beast… The adrenaline rush is intoxicating. I would tell you to try it yourself but such a life is not suited for you, Ras. You prefer to be on your own, do you not?”

Raska looked ahead thoughtfully. “Sometimes,” she answered, shrugging her massive shoulders. “But I do enjoy groups occasionally. There is always a good story to listen to. I never stay long, however; there seems, to me, to be more of a sense of enjoyment from feeling the connection between you and your prey. The chase to the slit of its throat is all you, all your strength.”

“But the variety!” Tani swooned. “When you work together, you can bring down things as big as a stag. Perhaps even a boar; but some of us would die if we tried. Of course, we never taste the flesh, only the blood; the humans take the carcass for themselves. But the blood is enough for me, usually.”

Raska looked up questioningly. “What in the world do you eat then, Tani?”

Tani shuffled her paws awkwardly. “Oh, you know,” she replied, as if it were very obvious. “The organs, the unwanted bits. And occasionally, some leftover human breakfast.”

Raska shook her head and wrinkled her snout. “Disgraceful.”

“Well,” Tani began doubtfully, “it’s not that bad. Bacon, now that is delicious. Grease and fat and flesh, all together. It is the meat the humans put over the fire, so the blood is just barely distinguishable. Ham is just so-so.”

“Have a taste of this,” Raska urged. “Drink the blood and remember.”

“Oh, I do not want to spoil myself,” Tani rang in her bell-voice, sounding very naïve to the older wolf. “If I do that, I will want to stay here. I will never leave. And it is not because I do not wish to see you, Raska, it really is not; down below, that is where I belong. I feel it in my heart. But…” Her voice faltered and she turned her eyes away. The irises had stayed blue since her birth, and their frozen depths always seemed enigmatic to Raska.

“What is it, little one?” she asked calmly.

“I have killed…” Tani began tentatively. “I have killed many, many things. I feel no guilt for any of the ones I have slain. All excepting one.”

“Why is this?” Raska settled back and wrapped her bushy tail around her haunch.

“Another wolf,” the brown female said in a voice of stone. “I killed… another one of us.”

Raska gasped. “Oh, Tani.”

“I know...” she grumbled, looking away, frustrated. “I was overcome by bloodlust. I couldn’t control my actions. I did not realize what I was doing. I convinced myself it was alright. And I murdered them horribly. Their blood stained my mouth, filled my throat. And it was such a sweet flavor. It feels wrong now, but it felt so right then. I feel… cannibalistic almost.”

Raska clucked her tongue. “Tani, do not be so hard on yourself. I have heard stories of wolves murdering other wolves for reasons more mere than your own.”

“Really?” Tani shrunk away, unconvinced.

“I have been told many cases, from a few other packs. Not an overwhelming lot but enough. It is not completely out of the ordinary to hear of such things these days. There is a feral side to all of us, Tani, and with more and more humans populating the earth as we speak, it brings out the anger at extreme levels. I believe it is impossible for us to help ourselves at times.”

The two of them looked up at the star-dappled sky and contemplated this.

“I am going back either way,” Tani said finally, her tone picking up a defensive edge so Raska would not stop her, and she gathered herself to her feet.

“Leaving so soon?” the white she-wolf asked, standing as well.

“I think so. I really just wanted to see you, to tell someone who would listen. I tried visiting my own brothers but they just lifted their noses, like this.” Tani pulled her snout back and revealed her front teeth in a ridiculous look. “I think the hounds' smell about me offended them.”

“Your brothers are both idiots,” Raska smirked, bittersweet. “I doubt they remembered who you were. Those fools.”

Tani barked out a laugh. “Fools indeed. They seem happy enough at least, they always hunt together and their ruffs were stained a brilliant scarlet. Well, goodbye, Ras. It was nice to converse, like old times, wasn't it? In any case, I will visit again soon, I promise.” She licked her elder’s ear twice, then sped off into the dark night.

“Yes,” Raska whispered as she watched the small, moonlit silhouette wander back to her dangerous world. “Good luck, little one. Try not to get yourself into more trouble. But I know you will find a way."