the boy and the wolf

The water rushed rapidly through the small stream of stones, flashing a glint and a sparkle in every direction. It ran deep through the woods of the forest, following the path it was meant to, only to be disturbed by the hands of one human boy. He looked about twelve years old, the cheeks still soft, but the jaw line of a man hidden beneath the surface. His eyes bright green pools, showed more wisdom than his years.



The boy knelt on the ground, gathering the fresh water in his hands; he smiled at his reflection, wondering how it was possible to see one’s self in such an object. All was silent amass the birds, until a crack of a branch startled him, and the boy let the water slip between his fingers, his reflection lost within the fury. It happened so suddenly he didn’t even have time to register the pain, the wolf’s claws slashed against his skin. He fought against the bite, crying out only in a scream, his body convulsing. 



And it was over as quickly as it began, the boy lay in the water, the colour swirling with the red, floating on until it would be unseen by the human eye, but it would still be there, within everything. It wasn’t until day break that the boy was found, and the howls of a mother scorned would be heard louder than that of the beasts.