I wrote this story for a local competition at school. It got me first prize and I have entered it into the Brit Writers Awards. I hop you like it and appreciate any comments.
Hunted
The blue sky was pale and clear, streaked with red from the coming dawn. In a secluded clearing deep in the heart of a thick forest, a large male wolf crept from his den. He stretched and yawned then turned to face his mate as she to crept from the den. He stepped forward and touched noses with his mate in the same farewell they said every morning. The male was a large healthy beast with fur that varied between pale honey on his legs to a dark grey and black over his shoulders and eyes. A beautiful and graceful creature, he stood tall and proud. His mate was a similar colouring with darker grey over the body. His two young and healthy cubs raced past, squealing and playing. Both wolves watched proudly as the two young males chased, pounced and fought with each other around the clearing. Eventually the male wolf turned and left to hunt, leaving his family to play in the sun.
An hour later, the male wolf trotted up a natural path leading up a stony rise. The path ended at a ledge that dropped for a few feet before continuing on into a different section of woodland. The great trees rose high above him on both sides. The forest floor was a mass of ferns, bushes and flowers. This rise was a common place for animals to pass through and deer could often jump of the ledge with little harm as they changed pastures. The male wolf silently passed a group of thick, tangled bushes which hid the worst possible danger for him; a hunter who was searching for deer. The man spotted the wolf up wind of him and took a fancy for the silky golden pelt, knowing it would fetch a handsome price in an auction.
For a moment, the wolf had lost the scent of his prey amongst the scent of other creatures and he headed higher up towards the ledge to find a new scent. Something caught his attention that made him wary. Lifting his head, he pricked his ears listening to the surroundings, his nose twitching as it smelt the air. All of a sudden he gave a startled yelp as he flew sideways and over the edge of the ledge. The loud crack of a gunshot rang out in the quiet air a split second later. He slammed into the ground with a bone jolting thump and cracked his head a second later with a severe whiplash. His vision swam and a red fog blurred it even more, almost rendering him completely blind. Then the pain came. A wave like fire on dried wood suddenly flowed through him. Each movement brought more pain to the point he nearly howled out loud. It lanced through his body like liquid fire, burning and throbbing. His blood pounded and his heart raced in fear and uncertainty. Panting, the wolf tried to stand. His side burned and his legs grew weak and unsteady. He collapsed back to the ground with a whimper. Twisting, he growled with the pain, searching for its source. His tongue flicked out and touched the bloody bullet wound in his side just below his shoulder. A sharp crack of snapping wood caught what little attention the wolf could spare. He caught the scent of the one thing he feared most. The scent of man. There was only one, but in his weakened state, the wolf had no chance of defending himself. His heart missed a few beats as the fear rose up inside even more overwhelming then before. The wolf knew he had to escape. Staggering to his feet, the wolf felt violently sick and his vision wavered again, threatening to black out as the pain flooded through him. He made a staggering leap for the trees; the adrenaline that coursed through his body with the fear dulled all pain and provided the energy needed to flee. He came to a stop off to one side, hidden by the thick undergrowth. Slightly behind him, he heard branches rustle and could smell the anger from his hunter, as the man fought through the branches only to find his quarry missing. The wolf fled away from the danger and deeper into the heart of the forest. Behind him he left a trail of blood from the fatal wound that the hunter easily followed.
The wolf continued running, his body burned with the pain and his heart racing with fear. Occasionally he staggered sideways and banged into a tree as he lost all coordination. Behind him he could just about hear the hunter still following his trail. The male came to a stop panting and trembling. He was feeling light-headed and dizzy. His lungs burned with the effort of running and his throat was raw from panting. He was desperate for a drink, so he turned and headed for the river.
The water of the river flowed past as the wolf slipped down the gravely bank. He staggered up panting, the pain was returning and he was extremely weak with blood loss. His side was matted and burned as if he was being branded. The wolf lapped at the cold water greedily, steadily quenching his thirst. The blood loss was steadily dehydrating him. Suddenly he tensed as he heard the sound of the hunter behind him. The wolf knew that whenever he was tracking prey he lost them at the side of the river if they had crossed. He launched into the ice cold water, snarling with the pain. His wound burned even more at first, and then slowly eased down to a dull throb. He paddled across as best as he could. His limbs ached and his shallow breathing caused his lungs to burn. He almost collapsed on the opposite bank with exhaustion, but the wolf knew he had to flee. With a heavy whimper, he dragged himself up right and prepared for a final burst of speed. Across the river, he could hear the hunter approach. Fear jolted him awake as his vision started to go black. The wolf ran for a few paces, before he was forced to collapse for the final time.
He lay motionless. His flanks shuddered and his breathing was laboured. He didn’t even have the strength to raise his head anymore. Off to one side, he heard the hunter splash across the river and cautiously approach. Once more the wolfs’ heart speeded up, but not by much. If it had been being measured, it would have speeded up to a normal speed. The pain was finally fading and a cold chill slowly crept all over him. Certain the wolf was too weak to attack, the hunter stood over him with a foot either side. A large hand roughly lifted his muzzle off of the forest floor. He gave a quiet deadly growl. It was his final call of defiance to the hunter. As the cold steel of the hunter’s knife pressed against his throat, he thought he heard the bark of his mate. Closing his eyes, the wolf saw his two cubs playing in the sunlight in the center of the clearing by their den. His mate lay beside him, as they had done many times after a hunt. They were all together and content. That was his last vision before the darkness took him.
