To be Loved by a Wolf

Sleet the lone wolf stalked forward on four paws, sniffing the air. His quarry was grievously injured, leaving a thin trail of crimson blood in her wake, a bright contrast with the green grass of summer. But his eyes only served him minimally. His nose did the real work, tracing an invisible path of blood particles hovering in the air. But even more so, his nose traced the stench of his quarry’s dirtied fur, just over the cusp of a looming hill.

Sleet was close to Mad Hare. So close.

As Sleet surmounted the top of the hill and gained a full view of the valley below, immediately, he noticed a peculiar sight. Despite her injuries, Mad Hare danced through the meadow, leaping and bounding, twisting and turning. The sight held an odd beauty. As if in a dream, Mad Hare twirled through the tall grass, the weeds and the flowers. Everything focused on her, watched her. The trees seemed to lean in her direction. The birds halted their songs and watched in stunned silence. Even the sun seemed to shine brighter around her, as if she had captured its attention.

Sleet bared his teeth, emitting a low growl of triumph. His quarry loomed completely exposed. An opportunity had presented itself, an opportunity Sleet knew he must grasp, if he hoped to rest easily at night. The ground tore beneath his paws as he rushed forth, towards Mad Hare.

A shadow loomed overhead; the other predator had spotted the tempting morsel. The shadow belonged to a great eagle, the same one responsible for Mad Hare’s injuries. Time was not on Sleet’s side. He knew how fast the eagle could strike.

Redoubling his efforts, Sleet desperately hurried forward, keeping both eyes focused on Mad Hare. There was nothing he could do to stop the eagle from reaching her first, but maybe he could snatch her away before the eagle carried her off.

The eagle seized Mad Hare with his outstretched talons, his wings beating downwards in dramatic fashion, halting his flight a mere foot from the ground. Sleet collided with the bird, snapping his jaws at the eagle’s neck.

They wrestled on the ground in a flurry of violence, each vying for domination. Through the corner of his eyes, Sleet noticed that Mad Hare had halted her dance and watched the struggle, her head tilted askew as if in contemplation.

Ignoring the talons digging into his sides, Sleet wrapped his jaws around the eagle’s neck and bit down. His tongue lapped up warm blood as his fangs lacerated tendons.

Dead, the eagle fell from Sleet’s jaws.

Mad Hare regarded him with wide eyes. “You came for me.”

Sleet laughed bitterly, falling to the ground where he lay on his side, painfully gasping. The eagle had torn great swaths of his fur away, tearing at the flesh and vital organs below. He shot a look at Mad Hare. “Did you truly doubt my devotion? You may be a rabbit, but I am still your guardian, my love.”
           Mad Hare leaned in close to Sleet, letting her body collapse onto his. They breathed as one, neither moving as the sun vanished beneath the horizon and darkness overtook the land.