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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1802569-Reality-Hurts
Rated: E · Short Story · Animal · #1802569
The more realistic version of my friendship tale....kinda.
  The lone wolf sat on the banks of the river. His ribs showed through his thin, shedding fur and his eyes were rhuemy from lack of vegitation. He was hungry, really hungry. Thinking how unfair life must be, he suddenly smelled something fresh, and alive. Beaver. The wolf drooled, the sudden fetish for blood returning, the want for fresh meat revived.
  The beaver swam down the stream, looking warily from side to side. He was scared. Outcast from the colony he was looking for a new home and life. But, the dangers and obstacles on the way were outrageous. Suddenly, the beaver saw a lone wolf charging towards him, plunging into the water. The beaver began to swim away, full speed, his tail whipping him through the water.
    The wolf was desperateley, trying to keep up with the beaver, trying to get a taste of its fresh meat. Alas though, the beaver was too fast, still the wolf tried in vain to catch the fast beaver, spittle flying from his mouth. His legs soon ache and he could swim no more but, on land he had an advantage.
    The beaver was relieved and swam more slowly now, but, noted how hungry the chase had made him. He had no time to make a channel to a tree, so, he decided to go to shore and eat some bark. Little did the foolish beaver know the wolf was stalking him, hungry.
    Even more hungry from following the beaver along the banks for hours, the wolf was relieved when the beaver swam towards shore. He watched hopefully as the beaver waddled towards a tree, and began gnawing a branch. The wolf had to hurry, but, the time was now. He charged ready for the kill.
    The beaver stopped eating and saw the wolf, the branch fell from the tree absent-mindedly and the beaver waddled faster than ever before. The wolf came, closer, closer, faster than any other wolf. Watching the beaver carefully, closely he jumped in for the kill. The beaver let out one last squeal before the wolf landed on top of him, sinking his sharp, white fangs into his throat, tasting the blood.
    The beaver was dead and the wolf had eaten, the wolf was now healthy and secretly thanked the beaver for its filling meat. Alas, one life was taken but, the world is harsh, and in order to survive one must eat.
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