The night was brightly lit by the light of a full moon, so bright that only the brightest stars could be seen. The hunter set by his fire sipping his coffee. Looking out over the river before him, seeing the tree tops as if it were day, and the shadows they cast on the forest floor below. The hunter a cruel man who had befriended the Indian known as brother of the wolf but only to learn his secrets of tracking the wolf, before killing him and dropping him from a cliff. Hired to hunt the wolf he had taken the life of all that lived on the mountain, all but the gray wolf the one they called the huntress.
The night was alive with sounds of the small creature's frog, raccoon, and the hunters like the owl. The hunter listened quietly he had tracked his prey for months and knew her den was near and that she would not stray far from it for she cared for pups. So for now he waited to hear his prey knowing the sight of the moon would be too much for her to bare, the urge to call the wind to strong. The hunter knew she was near. He thought of the reward the farmers put up on her head, not knowing that it was he not the wolf killing their chickens and their sheep, laughing at how easily they had believed that it was her. But his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a piercing cry as the howl of the huntress breached the night. The hunter had known she was near but he had never dreamed he was so close the cry had come from the other side of the hill. The hunter grabbed his rifle and crawled his way to the top. Looking over the hill he saw his prey the moonlight on her silver back made her shine in its light. The hunter eased the rifle up placing the cross-hairs on her head. Just as he was about to pull the trigger he realized she was hunting food her nose to the ground making small circles, sniffing and tracking. The hunter thought I will follow her to her kill. Then to her den there I will kill the huntress, I will show her body to the farmers and collect my reward and then skin her as a prize tack her hide to my cabin wall, and her pups I will chain to my porch and make guard dogs of them. Through the woods the huntress ran faster and faster the hunter right behind her as she moved in and out of the shadows. The hunter began to struggle to keep up, but the huntress only quickened her pace till at last the hunter could go no more. He watched out of breath as the huntress went out of sight. How foolish he had been not taking his shot when he had the chance. As for the huntress she moved in on her prey and with a quick snap of her sharp teeth the artery in the neck of her prey laid open. She set and watched as her prey slowly died its life blood leaving it. The hunter would not see her again, or make a prize of her skin, and her pups would not be chained to his porch. For the hunter had learned much too late that the prey the huntress hunted that night was he.
by by Rod_d_46©