The Lone Wolf

On a lonely path in the middle of nowhere, a lonely wolf loped longingly along. Leaves upon leaves upon leaves stacked upon each other, leaving just enough room for him to hang his melancholy head with his jaw just brushing the top layer of leaves. There was no moon in the sky. The stars were masked by the absolute certainty of the blackest of nights, and the wolf exhaled slowly and deliberately. Nearby, a rabbit snapped to attention and darted into the nearest shrubbery, alarmed at how careless he was to let such an ominous threat pass so closely. But tonight he would not pay for his mistake. The wolf did not alter his course. Although it was a moonless night, a companion, a fellow wolf, howled blaringly into the ink-black sky. The lone wolf did not raise his head. Following the cue of their alpha, the rest of the pack joined in, sending their powerful voices into the void above them. The lone wolf did not raise his head. His companions beckoned with their calls, silencing the quiet whispering of the woods with their calls. But still the lone wolf did not raise his head. It was their final goodbye. He was alone in his despair and confusion.

Under his gradually thinning pelt, his muscles weakened under the strain of the inevitable. His massive paws overtook his lean body and pulled him forward, step by step, slower, slower, slower. He collapsed. That powerful coat, which had gleamed in the sun and rippled in the hunt appeared in disarrayed, ragged clumps. Those paws, which had spurred him on through fire and ice, never failing, became the reason he could not go on. Those jaws which had snapped the neck of the mighty elk in a single, brief motion, were devoured by the saliva which gushed from their depths. And those eyes. Those eyes which had looked into the souls of prey and had understood them through the laws of nature and brutality, had lost their luster. The yellow that shone with the fervor of the omnipresent moons, one high above, and one the heart, dripped out onto that accomodating bed of leaves as the lone wolf let himself be reclaimed by the unforgiving ground which had possessed him since birth.

And those eyes, which had looked into the heart of man with infinite knowledge, closed. Never to be reopened.