Darkness Bellows

Veracity

"Raff and Kent will take the lead with me. Felan, Rydal, and Alari, take the flanks. Keala, I think it would be wise for you to stay here."

The golden and brown she-wolf's eyes glimmer with discontent, but she nods anyway. Lakota, who is sitting beside her, wags his tail expectantly. Croan sighs as he glances at him and adds, "Lakota, you'll take the back. Make sure we're not being followed." He pauses. "Let's go."

We race out of the camp, leaving just in time for me to quickly exchange a glance with Lykus, the dark brown pup. He watches sadly as we dash out into the forest, which is littered with branches and leaves from last night's wind.

Hunting is the lifeblood of any pack. It binds us together, speaking words that aren't our own. We become a single body, one pumping organ racing after prey.

That is, all of us except myself. On previous hunts, Lakota would often try to bump me out of formation and cause ruckus among the wildlife. Sometimes I wish that Croan would make him stay back at the camp, but with more wolves, we're able to take down stronger animals. He always has to join us.

I still don't understand Lakota. After proving my loyalty to the pack numerous times, he stills treats me like the enemy. It makes me wonder if there's a deeper meaning to his hatred towards me.

We blow through the forest like a tempest, diving skillfully over large branches and tree trunks. The air has become warmer, but still has a slight winter chill to it. Raff and Croan are at the head of pack, leading with noses lifted in the air to follow the scent of prey. I can feel our hearts pouding as one with the exhilaration. Our paws slam against the ground, toes digging into the dirt to pull ourselves farther forward. We breath the same air, feel the same energy of the chase.

Croan stops suddenly, dragging his back paws on the ground to come to a pause. We all falter our steps behind him and crouch, knowing that he's spotted something. I glance up and watch his eyes narrow slightly, his left ear flick in irritation. I look forward and peer through the ferns at the edge of the forest.

He's watching a small herd of buffalo grazing in the field outside the forest. He's trying to spot the weakest one among them, which I realize is a mature female. She has a limp, probably from a branch or tree the previous night.

Kent takes a step forward, but Croan stops him with a low growl. The rest of the wolves tense, feeling the need to run and take down the buffalo. Croan is patient, waiting for the right moment.

After a while of silence, he signals silently to Felan and Lakota to circle around the right. He does the same thing with Rydal and I, going around to the left. We race quickly through the field, behind the buffalo herd, and into the shelter of a nearby bush. Rydal is shaking with anticipation beside me, making deep rivets in the ground with her sharp claws.

I see movement and spot Kent and Raff moving forward quietly through the field, shoulders hunched and backs lowered to conceal themselves. The buffalo seem oblivious, greedily gnawing on the short stalks in the field.

I prick my ears, suddenly alert, when I hear a low growl. Its Croan, telling us to move forward. Rydal gives me a friendly nudge to go first, which I happily agree to. I spring out from behind the bush, straight towards the herd. We have to make them split up, leaving the injured female behind. I hear Rydal running behind me and soon see her beside me out of the corner of my eye.

Raff and Kent spring out next, driving the herd aside with a series of loud barks and growls. The buffalo herd grumble in fear and pound across the field, enveloping the ground in a mist of dust and dirt.

I see Lakota and Felan leap out from their hiding place, arching their backs and growling to scare the herd. They spring out too late and the herd comes barreling towards them at full speed, their sharp horns aimed right for the two males.