The Hunt
Oh no! the predators are here! Quickly, herd, you must all prove you are the healthiest and most vibrant!
The Hunt
© Cederwyn Whitefurr
8thJuly, 2019
All Rights Reserved.
I was challenged to do a thousand word short tale, based on this premise - I hope you enjoy...
Lifting his antlered head from the creek where he and his herd had been drinking a second ago, the water dribbled from his muzzle. His ears flicked forwards and back. Again, come that loud bleat of fear from the outliers of the herd. Those who watched and guarded the does and fawns. With a roar, he stamped his foreleg, the cloven hoof crashing down as he grunted and there come a cacophony of hooves. It was a cadence of thunder, as the does and fawns fled towards safety, as the stag splashed through the creek.
Raising his antlered head to the cerulean blue of the sky, he roared with such power and majesty, asserting his dominance and puffing out his chest. His nostrils flared as he scented the air - there- the smell of a predator - another - another!
Fear tried to sink its fangs into his neck, but he shrugged it off with a roll of his powerfully muscled shoulders. His once beautiful pelt was marred with scars of old wounds - both for dominance and from predators who had challenged him. He was proud, majestic, and not as young and fit as he once had been - he knew his time was coming - yet he was bound by his unspeakable oath to fight and die to protect his herd.
Roaring his challenge, he stormed up the far bank, cloven hooves tearing at the dark soil. He stood, his ears flicking and head slashing from side to side, antlers sharp and prepared, before he urinated in a long, powerful stream - the stink of it marking his superiority and a warning to other bucks - and he hoped - to the pack.
They come in a semi-circle, forcing him to swish his head from side to side, to watch them. They stopped, about a hundred yards away - their cunning evident as they stayed downwind of him, so he couldn't catch their scent and work out the best strategy. He stepped forwards, then with another bellowing roar, he slammed a cloven hoof down on the ground - scraping it backwards and tearing a clod out, before he snorted and flicked his ears.
Two wolves, young and impulsive, broke rank and flanked him. He knew_this_ strategy well - and as they moved it, he spun suddenly and there was the loud yelping cry as his antlers slashed and dug through fur and flesh - tossing the screaming wolf over his back - blood flying from a mortal wound to its belly.
Second one darted in, rolling at the last second and merely getting grazed, as it slashed with claw and fang, tearing a gash into the stags thigh before it screamed and stomped down. There was a sickening yelp and the stag kept stomping until the broken corpse beneath him stopped twitching.
Hearing the cries of their pack mates - the wolves all howled in unison, a mutual showing of grief and anger - before the began to advance. Hobbling the stag tried to step away, but the injured leg crumpled and he could barely hobble.
Sensing weakness, the pack increased pace. Grey speckled pelts streaming lithely across the verde towards him. Blood had been spilt - pack mates killed - now it was no longer the hunt! Now - it was pure, predatory blood-lust that compelled them.
Growls, yips barks and whines rang forth - whether communication or just exuberance - the stag did not know. All he knew, was he was hurt, bleeding badly, and facing at least eight wolves - who closed on him like furred demons from some Cervid hell.
Antlers flashed. Blood flew in splatters. Fur and fang collided. Screams, both Cervid and wolf pealed forth. Crunches of bones. Snarls, yelps and wines. Clouds of dust, loose hairs and sweat flew in all directions.
Like that - the battle was joined.
Fighting desperately, the stag trampled, gored and slashed - putting everything he had into this fight. He was oblivious as sharp claws and teeth tore and slashed - opening wounds from minor irritations to deep and potentially life threatening. Yet he fought with his whole being. Wolves lay broken, crushed beneath his heavy hooves or crawling away. Furred legs were snapped or outright smashed. Ribs cracked, bellies and chests torn open. Entrails adorned the stags antlers, blood sheeted over his head, blinding him.
Some wolves lay eviscerated - slashed open by the razor sharp antlers - their mournful screams pealing forth as they were turned on by their own pack mates. Blood lust drove the wolves - it was now a frantic and vicious melee - training, experience and team work were abandoned, so great was the urge to tear, rend and maul in their minds.
He kicked out, crushing a wolfs chest as it snapped at his hind hocks, the yelp cut mercifully short. Staggering, he nearly fell, before rearing and crushing a canid skull beneath both front hooves - but this cost him, as sharp teeth slashed him open from chest to groin. He screamed, feeling the agony of the wound as blood gushed forth - precious blood that held his strength and resolve within it.
Already, he felt weaker, his energy dissipating as he shattered another skull, hind leg flashing and knocking one wolf away - but not before it sliced at the tendon to his back leg - severing it and making him stumble again - barely retaining his balance.
This was it - the final push. Alpha male, a massive, black furred beast - taller than the rest had refrained. He had sat and watched, studying through bright gold eyes, the stags strategy and methods. It had taken herculean control to resist the smell and sight of blood and torn open flesh.
As the stag stumbled and fell, struggling back to his hooves, the Alpha grunted and stood up, then shook himself. With a loud, triumphant howl, he drove off the survivors, who fled back into the wood.
This was his fight - his alone - it had come down to this. He'd studied, watched and analysed. Now it was time to show this upstart the power of the wolf.
No more playing, no more games - this was it - the final battle.
Shaking his head, the stag tried to blink away the salty, stinging blood that almost blinded him. As he roared back at the wolf, his eyes narrowing in rage.
Cautiously, the alpha stalked around the stag, watching as he favoured his severed tendon, trying to keep as much weight off it as he could. Quickly, the wolf snapped back the other way unexpectedly, his fangs gleaming and saliva flying - before the stag squealed and slashed. Antlers barely missed but the wolfs strike was true - teeth gripping fur and flesh. Blood gushed from the wound and the wolf savoured the taste - before he willingly released his prey and raced under the stag.
Bleating in agony, the stag twisted and this was his fatal mistake - his mind filled with pain, he tried to stand on his severed tendon leg, but it crumbled beneath him and he fell heavily, twisting the leg as he fell. With a rush of blood and blood-lust, the wolf charged in for the kill.
His teeth clamped down around the stags nape, sharp fangs searing through the fur and flesh and grinding against the vertebrae. Gasping, the Stag bleated again and twitched, but the wolf tightened his grip. Knowing it was over, the stag went limp and submissive, his muzzle hanging open and sides heaving as he drew exhausted breaths.
Tired of the game, the alpha tightened his grip, then with three shakes of his head, he felt the stag's neck vertebrae pop apart. Death claimed the noble stag swiftly - his body convulsing once and laying still, before the wolf lifted is head and let forth a loud howl of triumphant pleasure...
*
Patrick tore the VR headpiece off, the young Elk's eyes streaming as he shuddered and moaned softly. So shocked and graphic had the game been, he was a few moments returning to lucidity.
Beside him, sat his beloved partner, Kalen, a silver and black speckled timber wolf, who whined softly and reached over and placed a paw gently on the sobbing Elk's forearm.
"Honey - I never imagined..." Kalen began, his gold eyes shimmering with sadness. "Its a new T.I.E., a Total Immersion Experience Game, I didn't know it - it would be so..."
Patrick rose, his whole body shaking, before he walked over to the window and stood there, his body trembling like he was stricken with a virulent flu virus. His paws interwove, as his ears flatted and he sobbed heart-brokenly, so shocked and traumatised, he couldn't find words.
Kalen padded over, nervously sliding his paws around Patrick's arms, then held the crying stag tight, feeling him flinch and struggle.
'No my love, shhh, its alright..." Kalen murmured, then rested his chin on his lovers shoulder.
"I - " Patrick moaned, tears flowing unhindered down his cheeks.
'Forgive me, my kind, sensitive dear elk, truly, I had no...idea!"
'You'd never hurt me...would you?" Patrick's sobbing whimper come.
'Never love, never..." Kalen whispered, as he cuddled Patrick tight.
END