"If the cold doesn't kill you, the wolves will."
NOT A WEREWOLF STORY
Book 1 of 2.
In which an 18-year-old girl flees to Alaska to escape being accused of murder & to uncover what happened to her uncle. Involves two gentle giants.
Completed. :)
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Chapter 22 | CANIS LUPUS AND A CONFESSION
I notice out of the corner of my eye that Vaughn's hand, which was reaching for the first branch, freezes when I yelp in surprise and scramble back.
There, about 10 yards away, is a gray wolf.
It's big, at least double the size of Matthias' huskies, but it's skinny as if it has had trouble catching its prey. A mixture of dark and light, thick, and mangled gray fur. I shiver out of fear as its snout curls back into a vicious snarl, and I hear it growl from where it stands, looking out from behind an evergreen tree. However, it doesn't move. It just stays standing there, amber-colored eyes glaring darkly in my direction.
Before I can run or do anything, though, I'm yanked back and sandwiched between the river and Vaughn, who holds his gun out in the wolf's direction.
"Start climbing. Now."
I turn around and immediately do as he says, hurrying to scramble up the tree.
Once I'm up, I quickly stuff my choppers into my pockets and begin to make my way over the river.
Even though I'm in a hurry, I can't afford to rush and possibly slip, falling into the river. So, I stay steady and focused, knowing Vaughn will most likely be okay, as he has the gun.
When I've finally made it across, I climb into the tree and turn around, seeing Vaughn in the other tree across the river. He's still holding his gun, pointing it towards the bottom of the tree.
Following his gaze, I see the wolf with its front paws on the tree, snarling at the man with no fear whatsoever in its eyes.
No fear of humans in a dangerous animal is a fearful thing.
Vaughn swiftly swings the rifle strap around him and begins to make his way across the branches.
After I survey the area to make sure there are no animals on this side of the river, I'm about to start making my way down to the ground.
However, before I can make my way down the tree, Vaughn says, "Wait."
So I turn and face him, raising an eyebrow.
He stands steadily on a limb next to me in the tree before starting to descend. "I want to make sure that it won't try to cross."
I nod, watching as he walks to the edge of the water, staring at the wolf.
It snarls again, taking a step forward and putting its paw in the water. Immediately, though, it retracts it.
"Alright, you can come down now."
I do so, remaining fascinated by the creature on the other side of the river. I didn't really expect the first Canis lupus I see out here to be a malnourished lone wolf. It's sad, honestly. Wolves tend to represent strength in numbers, and when they're alone...they're so much weaker.
