Howls, feral and bloodthirsty, pierced the normal calm of the nighttime forest. The thief burst through a low twisted growth of stunted cherry saplings. His eyes were wide with fright, froth forming on his lips from exertion. His fear was not without good reason; he had underestimated the strength of the clan’s border security and would soon pay dearly for his “crime”. He would never reach the borders of his own clan’s lands in time: he could already hear the footsteps and howls of his pursuers. He clutched the bundle, his prize, closer to his chest and willed his legs faster.
An irregular dip in the soil suddenly broke his stride and he sprawled headlong into a moonlit field: the same field he had crossed through just after leaving his clan’s boundary. The bundle flew from his grasp and became lost to his sight in the tall grasses. A series of dull thuds sounded around the thief, followed by angered growling. The thief slowly stood and tried to brush mud and grass from his copper red coat. A silver-grey paw lashed out, grabbing the doomed fox-thief by his throat. The Alpha Wolf lifted the fox until their eyes were level: approximately three feet higher than where the tips of the fox’s ears would normally reach. Despite the fox’s struggles, the wolf’s grip did not loosen.
“Where is it?” the wolf snarled, his voice feral with barely controlled rage.
“I don’t know what you’re talking abo-ack! Khack?!”
The fox’s voice broke as the Alpha’s grip tightened.
“Don’t lie to me! I know you’ve been testing the extent of the perimeter guard patrols of my village for the last three nights. Tonight, I doubled the guard. Five of my men witnessed you breaking into the sacred temple. Now: where is it?!”
“I just -wheeze- have a poor sense of direction! -gasp…wheeze- I have taken…nothing!……..”
The fox’s words quickly dissolved into faint gargling followed by a faint crunch then silence as the wolf crushed his windpipe and neck. Angered by the fox’s obvious lies, and more enraged by the fact that he allowed the damned creature such a swift death, the Alpha proceeded to desecrate the corpse: tearing it into ever smaller pieces, splattering himself and his guard with blood, and bits of bone, gore, and fur.
When nothing remained but blood-formed mud and matted grassed, the Alpha howled his fury to the moon, a call quickly taken up by his brothers in the field and answered by those still at the village deep in the forest. More blood would surely be spilled that night as the pack prepared to break treaty and cross into Fox lands…
******
In a hole not too far from where the fox had fallen and was later slain, the little bundle lay, nestled in thick grasses and soft mud. It shifted slightly…
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