the white wolf

THE WHITE WOLF

BY

T.C. ELOFSON

         

         “Run!” Bane’s grandfather screamed out as the massive jaws of a white wolf sunk into his flesh. Tears streamed down the innocent face of the child as he watched in horror as his grandfather fought the white wolf.

The old man struggled against the power of the beast, and then suddenly blood sprayed across the white snow leaving pools of red droplets just feet from Bane. The child turned and ran for his life.

The two had begun to hunt the white wolf two days past. The animal had started to hunt on the outskirts of their small village. The old man, thinking that he would teach the young boy to become a man, foolishly brought him along to hunt the wolf.

The sun had just begun to rise over the mountains and the snow was still falling from the bitter cold of the night before as the white wolf moved with great speed aimed at the child.

Bane ran as fast as his little feet could carry him, almost losing his balance. Snow crunched flat under his steps as tree limbs slapped him in the face. Suddenly the wolf pounced, Bane turned just in time to see the animal take to the air. The beast landed with such force that the two were knocked to the ground and down a large hillside. 

Bane tumbled downward uncontrollably and unaware of the placement of the white wolf. His vision blurred as trees flew by his face and then he heard it, it was the sound of pain. The white wolf was crying out.

Bane finally came to a stop under a large tree. That’s where he found the white wolf. The wolf was impaled only a few feet from him. A large piece of wood was protruding out of the animal’s ribcage. A pool of dark red blood had gathered under the animal as the wolf struggled to look at the boy who was now standing in front of him.

There was so much blood surely the animal would only live for a moment Bane thought. What would the villagers think? They would call him a hunter of course, the wolf killer, but he knew the truth and he would never tell.

THE END