She runs.
Starting and stopping.
Waxing and waning.
Her breath erratic.
Her body weary.
Exhausted from the chase.
Desperately trying to find a place.
No longer to be seen.
No longer to be smelled.
No longer to be felt.
She escaped.
She caught it off guard.
It didn't realize how much fight she had.
Or maybe it did.
Maybe it wanted her to get away.
Maybe it wanted the hunt to continue.
She's a fighter.
She doesn't fear of the wolf.
She's utterly terrified of it.
And that excites her even more.
She knows she can't win.
Yet she knows she can't stop either.
The wolf tastes the air.
It can still taste her.
The taste of her fear.
The taste of her desperation.
The taste of her desire.
She finds shelter from sight.
The wolf approaches.
Closer.
Closer even still.
She holds her breath as it draws near.
There's nothing.
The wolf is gone.
Silence.
She can no longer hear it.
She peeks from cover.
She can no longer see it.
She closes her eyes.
Her breath finally escapes her lips.
She opens her eyes.
The wolf is here.
