The Wolf of the Plains

Once upon a time, beyond the hills, much further in the plains, lived a wolf. He used to live alone and didn’t have any friends. While the pack would go out hunting for rabbits and moles, the lone wolf would stroll in the shrubs. There weren’t many trees in the grassland, the few that were there formed a canopy which stretched far enough to make a cool shade for the wolf. He would walk under the trees, scratch himself, sniff around, let out a wide yawn, and rest himself on the cool grass. He would sniff and snore, but soon after, he would fall asleep.

One day, the guard wolf came and met the pack leader. They talked for a long time. For those who saw said that the guard wolf seemed excited and they heard him say, “It was something we always wished for. The time has come that we haste and reclaim what is rightfully ours and follow the footsteps of our forefathers.”

Later in the evening when the cubs were playing their games, scratching each other, deceiving each other, for that’s what they had learnt from their pack; the pack leader wolf, with a big grey face and canines so sharp that it could tear out the flesh even of the wisest of animals, came around and asked everyone to gather around him. The cubs stopped their play, trying to listen and understand every word they could. A long silence preceded and finally the pack leader spoke.

“Rumour has it that humans have been seen around our plains,” he said.

Everyone in the pack looked at each other and soon whispers followed.

“It seems that the rumour is true. The brave guard of our confirmed it himself. He had seen the humans walking in the shrubs,” he continued.

The guard wolf nodded in approval and realized that the entire pack had eyes on him.

“Yes. This is true,” he said.

He started walking around and the pack. He looked at every one of them. Their eyes were cold and their jaws wide open. Long sharp teeth that shone in the bright moon. The guard wolf let out a loud howl and growled, “Let’s feast!”

The wolves let loud howls and it could be heard far and wide. They howled and growled. It was a day everyone had been eagerly waiting for. They would hunt, not rabbits and moles, but humans. They had heard stories of their forefathers hunting humans and feasting on them. For long they had waited and the hunger for the blood had grown stronger. The cold, much-anticipated hunt was to happen in the night. Everyone had decided to participate in this, for it was a hunt of great honour. They would pace slowly towards them when they would be the weakest, for they were less in numbers. Darkness would make them slow and nervous. The hunt was to be a sure success.

All this time, the lone wolf sat there, unheard and unobserved. He didn’t like the idea of this hunt. He felt it was a waste, a waste of time and energy. He did not want to be a part of it. He didn’t find it reasonable to attack someone whom he never knew and had never seen in his life. He slowly rose from his place and walked away. He walked through the tall green grass. It was dusk and soon the moon would be shining brightly in the sky. It was then that the hunt would start and blood would flow. The very thought of it gave him shivers. He wanted a much peaceful life. A life like every day where he could sleep in the shade of the big old trees and reflect upon himself. He didn’t like change. He had decided that he wouldn’t let this happen. He would go and meet the humans. He would ask them to go away and never come back.  It was very frightful to face them but the violence that would follow would be even more frightful. With that thought, he walked into the shrubs, the birds were flying back to their nests hidden in the thick long shrubs. They came home with hopes, hopes for another morning; when they could go out to bury the unending hunger of their children.

The wolf walked towards the direction of the sound. A sound he knew only humans could make. As he came nearer to them, his pace suddenly increased and then he suddenly advanced towards them. But then he stopped and hid behind a bush. As he stood there, jaws wide open, the wind blew over the tall grass and they swayed in the air. In the cold darkness of the nights in this plain, brightness spread all over. A brightness that no creature on this plain had ever seen. The humans were burning the trees.

The moon shone brightly and the hunt began. And it happened. Not many wolves were left to tell the story of this epic battle that once took place in this plain beyond the hills. The few that survived told said that the lone wolf fought bravely. He was an outmatched strength. He ripped two humans into pieces before they chopped his head off.

3 thoughts on “The Wolf of the Plains”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s