Eclipse Child |✔|

|11|

There is something in us 

that is very much attracted to madness. 

Everyone who looks at the edge

of a tall building 

has felt at least a faint,

morbid urge to jump

- Stephen King, The Ballad of the Flexible Bullet

***

Hunger caves into my stomach.

I can feel it within the other wolves also.

Small prey was not enough to satisfy their bellies.

They wanted more.

For days now, the pack had been following the herd of elk. Tracking them within the rocky terrain of the mountains as they watch the proceedings of the animals from afar.

The male nudges me with his head, capturing my attention as his eyes fixate on one elk in particular.

It's obvious to see why.

The animal is limping.

Something about its back-left leg is off- causing it to straggle from the herd.

The wolves know it is the prey. They are the predators.

And the hunt is starting.

I don't know what to do, but excitement runs through me all the same.

Lessons that the male had shown me within the past week run through my mind.

To my sheer disbelief though, he pushes me aside. His body pressing and herding me away. I see that he is trying to make me stay with two other wolves- younger ones that are in the awkward phase of not being a pup, yet not having that acknowledgment of adulthood.

Anger burns into my chest.

If it weren't for the surrounding pack, and the threat of exposure- I would have shifted on the spot.

Because he was making me stand out of the hunt, and instead stay on the sidelines to watch.

The younger wolves are attentive, their whole focus on their elders. The male presses me to them.

I try to dart around, but he catches the scruff of my neck, pulling me back to the side.

A low growl enters my throat right when it emerges from his.

Challenge.

I feel my hackles rise.

My canines flash in defiance.

The wolves around us stop, stiffening at the sight.

If this male was challenging me, then he would receive his fight.

But just as I am about to attack, the male lets go, his head falling and ears pushing against his skull.

Submitting.

I'm frozen on the spot, unable to process what he is doing.

But then I take in the pack's stance.

How they were wary of me. Like I had done something wrong.

Almost treating me like a loose fire. Raging and burning anything in sight- unable to be put out and uncaring in what it touched.