18.
The Third Hunt
It was night, and the forest was alive with shrieks and howls. Raging shadows wove through the undergrowth, rushing and roaring like the wind that made tides through the treetops above. White fangs glittered in the darkness and eyes in the undergrowth flashed in unnatural colors. The air was filled with the screams of invisible creatures, thousands upon thousands of them, summoned by the bloodlust that was burning in the wind like hot sand. They surged forward with an almost eerie fluidity, a black stream of bristling pelts and snapping fangs, throwing their hunting calls like a hungry flock of ravens as they dashed amongst the quiet, observing trees.
Alanki’s heart beat to the rhythm of her paws slamming against the ground. She had known that they would come for her; she had known what they intended to do. Never. If they caught her, then who would defend the deer?
She could feel them coming, rumbling in the ground like thunder beneath her paws. Ears flat, tail streaming like a comet behind her, she shot through the forest, slipping over stone and under brush like a flitting ghost.
One of the shadowy wolves leapt at her from behind a clump of bracken. He lunged for her, but she sidestepped his attack, lashing out a swift, clawed paw to crack into his head—something she had learned from fighting the lynx, long ago. She turned on the spot and whisked away into a thick grove of pines, kicking up leaves into his face and hearing his howl of fury as she disappeared.
They will never catch me. That’s what she had told the alpha wolf. But they had come for her anyway. It was to be expected. They were faster than Alanki had imagined, but not as swift as she—she hadn’t survived as a renegade for nothing. It was as though the forest was full of them: endless, bristling intruders. Roars and snarls echoed through the air as though descending from the black sky, enclosing Alanki in their grasp, saying, We’re coming for you. We’re going to kill you—you will pay. Well, this was her forest. It would hide no one but her.
Clumps of dark undergrowth seemed to open up before her, ready with a small hollow in which she may hide. She could melt into the dark night-shadows of the forest, her white pelt just a flickering will-‘o-the-wisp—there one moment, gone before you could blink. These were superstitious wolves, she knew. They would see her vanish into thin air.
Like a dart, she wove in and out of the tree trunks and brambles, her paws making no sound as they flowed over the mounds of scattered dead leaves. She smiled in spite of her dire situation. The wolves chasing her were running as if they had no care for the noise they made; their heavy paws slammed against the soft ground like hammers. Alanki was as silent as the shadow of a bird.
The army of galloping paws was coming closer; the soil beneath Alanki’s feet trembled like the skin of a drum. She dove into a pile of dead leaves amongst the pooled shadows of a pine tree, her white pelt melting into the darkness as though it had never been there.
The wolves’ paws came to a sudden halt, and Alanki heard a few leaves rustling. She listened closely, estimating that there were three wolves there, their bristling pelts brushing against the thorns of the undergrowth. She could see their eyes glittering and darting around like wild sparks in the shadows. The hunting group was having a hushed conversation, and one of them was arguing. Whispers floated through the darkness like wisps of cotton. She strained, but could not make out what they were saying.
Then the whispers stopped. A black she-wolf with scars on her muzzle padded past Alanki’s hiding place, sniffing the still air. Her dark pelt, papered with dead leaves, was bristling and rigid. Mustard-yellow eyes scanned the grove of shadowy pines, flickering sparks in the darkness.
Alanki pressed herself lower to the ground and flattened her ears. So that’s what they were doing now—trying to sneak up on her? She watched as the black she-wolf padded away, keeping close to the trunks of the trees and skirting pools of shadow. Well, Alanki could do some sneaking of her own.
It was not long before small, scared-looking black male crept into the grove to follow the she-wolf, so near to Alanki that she could hear his short, terrified breathing. She watched him with shrewd green eyes as he sniffed around the roots of a nearby bush. He was young—younger than the she-wolf had been, and younger than Alanki herself—and terrified, too. She could smell his fear in the air, and hear the rapid, panicked fluttering of his heart. He would make an easy kill. Alanki tensed, feeling the energy building up in her hind legs like boiling water as she waited for just the right moment.
She exploded out from the undergrowth where she had been crouched, almost invisible. A cloud of dead leaves splayed up from the ground, raining down like fluttering, whispering bats on Alanki and the other wolf.
She barreled into him, slamming him against the ground. There was no ritual, angry slashing of claws this time—Alanki went straight for his throat. His hind paws scrabbled underneath her, but she ignored the sharp shocks of pain as they ripped through her fur. He gasped a choking yelp of terror as she bit down hard into his throat, his movements becoming more frantic. Alanki’s jaw clamped around his soft neck, preparing herself for the rush of hot blood.
Something large and heavy rammed into Alanki from behind, sending her spinning off into the shadow of a nearby pine. She quickly regained her feet, shaking away the throbbing shock of the impact and slipping off to crouch against the tree.
Another wolf, a deep brown color but very large, was standing a few feet away from the wolf on the ground, who was still struggling for breath.
“Where did she go, Raatri?” Alanki heard the larger wolf hiss, his grey eyes glinting like knives through the darkness.
Raatri gasped and shook his head.
Alanki watched them from among the shadowed roots of her pine, crouching as close to the thick trunk as she could. The large wolf’s cruel-looking eyes were scanning the grove, ignoring Raatri’s whimpers.
“Go find Nerasa,” he growled, sniffing a dead leaf at his paws. “She shouldn’t be alone, and we will be needing backup.”
Alanki rose to her paws and slunk off into deeper darkness, leaving the two wolves behind her. They made no sound, no sudden shout. They had not seen her at all.
The forest enveloped her in its dark grasp, and she vanished.