The Grey Wild

Instinct drives a being to do what they are programmed to. An instinctive urge to feed, breed, fight, and flee is all necessitated by one root goal... survival. Instinct’s counterpart, choice, is balanced out by the varying degree of the instinct in question. Choice can determine how well that being’s survival is not only for themselves, but for those around them. For one alpha gray wolf, he felt he had little choice.

While patrolling the western extreme of his pack's territory, Abram monitored one of the smaller elk herds that was grazing in the tall grass next to a swift moving creek, on the eastern side of the narrow valley. Abram stayed crouched low behind outcroppings of the lengthy grass and jagged rocks just south of them, and comfortably downwind. The small herd kept a fairly close distance to the lofty pines that stood tall on the thin northern side. Fed from cloud covered mountains just to the north, rushing water split the slender glen in half, flowing southward. The stream swelled more than usual from the storm system that passed through the land. Distant thunder cracked through the sky and rain came down moderate and steady, but was now bearable to Abram. He needed a status update on one of the pack’s dwindling food sources.

None of the elk appeared sick or injured, and the calves were kept close at all times. The massive bull that led them kept a watchful eye on his herd. An impressive rack of deadly antlers adorned the large male, impaling tools that nearly touched his rump when he leaned his head back. Only a fool would dare anger him. Abram’s pack was running low on food, but this herd definitely did not make a good target.

To make matters worse, the herd decided to cross the rushing creek to the west, away from the pack’s territory and closer to another. The embankment on the other side proved to be steep and slippery from all the precipitation, but the bull found a small crevice in the middle that allowed the long legged elk herd to move up it in single file. The male easily made his way up, then turned around to watch. He huffed his annoyance at having to wait for the rest of them in the cold rain, and urged them to hurry. Witnessing the last head in view and all being accounted for, the large bull hastily started leading them into the nearby forest on the western side, and out of the chilling shower.

Damning this misfortune, a disappointed Abram turned around begrudgingly and started to leave. His rumbling stomach had to go re-check his other resources to see if any of them offered more hope.

An alarmed cry from a calf cut across the creek, prompting the wolf to turn back around. The last one up had loosed a stepping stone at the top and skidded back down. Abram peered back through the rocks and tall grass. The calf now had a hard time getting out of the slippery nook, sending dirt and debris into the creek each time it tried to step forward. One of the adult females hopped down the embankment to help the nervous young one up. Positioning her large body behind the calf, she started pushing the inexperienced youngling up. As she gave a final push with her head to send the sodden calf up and over the west bank, her hoof broke loose a small slab of granite and sent her sliding into the swift creek. Not realizing what happened, the calf trotted up to the rest of the herd, and entered the nearby wooded area anxious to be with it’s mother. The big female’s leg became wedged between two rocks in the stream, and the cow’s cry of distress was muted by the raindrops and the rushing icy water as she descended into the cold creek again. Abram watched the scene intently.

Finally upright on her hooves again, the cow yanked her leg free from between the stones, coughing water from her lungs as she hopped back onto the rocky shore. Pacing on the narrow shoreline, she should have easily bounced back up the muddy nook, but couldn’t because she was favoring her right rear leg. Confused, she had to search for another way up.

Abram could hardly believe what he saw unfold before him. How quickly situations in the wilderness can change. Here was a healthy adult female elk, alone and injured. And her herd didn’t know it!

Seizing this rare opportunity, Abram launched from his hiding spot and carefully bounded across the stones in the creek to cut her off from the south. Her leg was damaged, but he knew she was still very strong. The cunning wolf needed to chase his prey north into the forest where the rest of his pack was roaming. Baring his long canine teeth and growling, Abram wanted to make as little noise as possible. The rouse worked, and the big female swung around and darted north up the creek.

Abram knew the elk wanted to turn left toward the herd as soon as there was a way past the creek bank. Using his speed, he ran up the left side of her and snapped his huge maw at her. The elk rapidly changed direction and headed east back across the creek, toward his pack. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

The rain started to lighten up, and the clouds began to slowly break. The dense forest wasn’t the ideal place to hunt, but he had to make it work. Abram let out a bark to signal his location. His endurance was incredible, but he needed to slow his swift prey down. He lashed out at her hindquarter, but came away with just a mouthful of shaggy brown fur as his fangs barely grazed her skin. Adrenaline kicked in, and the cow elk propelled even faster, leaping cleanly over a large row of moss covered rocks. Abram could not leap as high, and slipped on the wet rocks as he tried to jump them. Quickly regaining his composure, he raced after her with his large paws pounding into the damp pine needle covered floor. Abram let out another sharp bark.

“Where the hell are they?” Abram thought to himself, knowing that his pack could not be far off.

The speedy wolf caught up to her again, running along a twelve foot high ridge in the forest. As Abram heard the distant sound of his son Randulf’s answering call, he knew he needed to slow her down. Leaping at her again, he sank his long fangs into her right flank. The elk cried out in pain with Abram’s jaw latched on her rump. The cow’s sprained right leg suddenly buckled out from under her and she tumbled and slid down the ridge, sending the alpha wolf down the ridge with her. The dual mass of fur and flesh came to an immediate crashing halt against an old pine log on the wet forest floor. The wolf tried to get up before the elk and engage first, but only felt the concussive blow and crunch from the hoof he saw in his final second of consciousness.

*****

Warm blood dripped from his long, curved canines. An intoxicating pungent scent faintly lingered in his nostrils. With straining mental effort, he forced his heavy eyelids open to a squint, only to see a blurred vision of the cool and damp forest floor his motionless body now lied upon. Slowly lifting and turning his head, he examined his prone body. Dark brown mud, wet aspen leaves, and dead pine needles covered most of his dark grey and silver fur. His aching back lay fixed entirely against a fallen pine tree. As his ears perked, he could hear a distant creek along with a dull fading ring in his head.

Turning his head up and seeing the cool moonlit sky still out of focus, Abram couldn’t recall the events that put him in this situation. He just knew that his head throbbed in pain. The blood he tasted in his mouth was his own. But he also acknowledged another taste that accompanied his own. Another that ignited his primal instincts.

The crisp crack of a twig behind him snapped him aware, and shot his eyes wide open. Something was coming in on him. Something closing at great speed, with quick padded footfalls. His survival instincts were now propelled into overdrive.

Still on the cool soaked ground, Abram whipped his head around with his ears flat back and teeth bared. His eyes shone bright gold green, reflecting the glowing moonlight. Coupled with the sight of his long blood-stained fangs and the low rumbling growl that came from his long muzzle, Abram’s stare cast an imposing presence that would stop just about anyone in their tracks.

A dark stranger now crested the fallen pine. Standing atop the log, this blurry figure resembled his own, but reflected little light as this one had fur nearly as dark as the night sky itself. Without moving, the other figure just looked down upon him. Abram growled deeper and louder. This stranger did nothing else but stare back at him with disturbing motionlessness.

Abram could hear another distant pursuer closing in as swiftly as the first. The dark stranger pointed an ear backward, but kept his gaze fixated on Abram.

“Bannock!”, the distant pursuer called out. The dark grey shadow above Abram didn’t flinch, as the sound of the second pursuer grew dangerously closer.

“Bannock!, the voice called out again, this time with a hint of concern in his voice. ”Bannock! Have you found-“

“He’s here”, the shadowy figure finally responded loudly, still not taking his steel eyed stare from Abram.

The second figure soon joined Bannock atop the broad log, and saw the same menacing look staring back at him from Abram. More intense growling followed, lips curling to further reveal Abram’s wicked teeth.

“Father, it’s me!”, Randulf cried out, quickly piecing together clues that his alpha wasn’t in his right mind and that mud and forest debris covered most of his body. Bannock and Randulf slowly lowered their heads and tails.

Abram’s growling softened and his ears came forward as his vision started to clear. The scent of the strangers finally started to register in his olfactory glands. Coming into focus, he could now see his regal son. A near spitting image of his father, except Randulf’s fur shone a near snow white with accents of silvery blue. His eyes reflecting more green in the silent moonlight.

The sight and smells of his son and his cunning beta Bannock next to each other brought everything rushing back. Abram sniffed the air, and his two companions did the same. The scent that initially fired Abram’s instincts still drifted in his nostrils, and the other two caught it as well. The scent of the female elk. They were on the hunt!

“She’s close”, Abram finally spoke with an ache in his voice. He then looked directly at his beta, Bannock. “Rally them!”

After a second’s hesitation, Bannock raised his black muzzle upward to the sky and let out a long resonating howl. Half a dozen pairs of night shined eyes and erect ears came to immediate attention in the dark forest around them.

Finishing the rally cry, Bannock reluctantly came over to help Randulf get his father up. They both soon realized the mistake of their gesture. In an instant, Abram came up in a snarling fury, and threw them both to the ground. The act was to remind the both of them and the approaching pack that even when wounded, he remained their alpha. Their submissive postures accepted, Abram turned around to pick up the trail again.

“We cannot waste this opportunity!” Abram boomed to the pack, as he raced ahead of everyone with one ear pointed forward, the other pointing back at his pack. As good as a wolf's sense of smell is, their hearing is even better.

The alpha knew he was lucky to be alive. A kick from a healthy adult elk could have been fatal. The kick he realized must have been from the cow’s injured leg.

The pain in his side of his bloodied muzzle mattered not at this point. The pack was getting hungry. They had not had any fresh kills to eat for nearly two days. As resourceful and efficient as they were at managing their food, it had started becoming increasingly difficult to find good targets. This cow elk was shear luck. Abram knew he had to make this luck count. The throbbing in his head served one painful reminder. He had mouths to feed.

A high pitched bark from Bannock communicated that he could hear the big female. Abram and the pack pushed their burning legs harder, weaving their way through the dark and dense forest. Abram, Bannock, and Randulf now split three wide in an attempt to more accurately locate their prey.

Abram heard his son Randulf slow to a stop and take a couple quick sniffs around a young aspen. Bannock slowed his pace, and then probed the ground in a 20 foot arc around Randulf.

“Fresh blood. On the back side of this tree”, Randulf answered in a panting breath before his father even asked.

Coming to a stop, Abram shifted his expectant gaze back to Bannock, who had now circled behind Randulf.

“Here!”, proclaimed Bannock, finding the exact mark his nose searched for. The fresh elk track he found stamped in the ground and the blood on the tree gave them a new trajectory on their target.

“She’s doubling back”, Randulf cooly told Bannock, who nodded his agreement.

With a slight nod and smile, Abram charged forward in the new direction leading the others behind them. Abram beamed with pride at the thought of his small pack. They are strong physically, but they also operated with a cold and deadly intelligence as well. Randulf neared full adulthood, and was nearly as large as his father. Maybe even bigger at the rate he grew. He learned extremely fast, and seemed to even improvise with calm effectiveness under pressure. Cunning and highly experienced, Bannock was more the risk taker of the group. More often than not though, his gambles paid off, and Abram tolerated it. There were others in the pack who were up and coming, and the three prongs of this trident leading them would set a fine example indeed.

The trident of the pack pushed deeper into the drenched forest, the others not far behind.

*****

A hunting barn owl launched from her perch, flying with deathly silence towards a mouse foraging alongside a rotting log. Innately nervous, a rumble in the ground alarmed the mouse and sent it scurrying back east along the log towards it’s burrow. The owl instantly changed it’s approach, bearing down on the mouse. Serrations on the leading edges of her flight feathers broke up the air passing over her wings, helping make her a silent assassin. The stealthy owl knew she couldn’t be heard. There was something else that had spooked the mouse. With only 15 feet left to her target, the owl heard a rumble along the forest ground that made her shift her keen night eyes to the right. Barreling past a large outcropping of rocks came something big, and the owl pulled up hard.

The cow elk sped past a large outcropping of rocks, only to be met by the outstretched wings of the ghostly white owl. The nimble yet irritated owl avoided a direct collision, but made sure her annoyance was known by slapping the elk across the face with it's primary feathers as she flew passed.

Spooked at yet another surprise, the elk changed course again, and was now speeding southwest toward the original valley that separated the woodland, and closer to her herd. Landing on a branch and turning around, the irritated owl turned it’s furious gaze from the mouse burrow to one of the pursuers that soon followed the elk, and back again. The owl gave a long last angry look at the elk that had ruined her dinner.

Randulf saw the owl’s series of displeased looks as it landed on the branch, and guessed that her night feeding just got interrupted. Randulf made particular note of the last agitated look that was following something. He knew it had to be the elk, and adjusted his route accordingly. As the irate owl now turned it’s aggravated dark eyes on Randulf and beamed it’s displeasure toward him, he returned a look that said “thanks” and “sorry” at the same time. The owl just mumbled something incoherent, then slowly turned and flew off somewhere else in search for food. Randulf let out a series of short barks.

Abram and Bannock heard the barks from Randulf, that signaled yet another new bearing. The heading would put them on a direct line dangerously close to a rival pack’s territory, and toward the elk herd. Bannock was within sight of Abram, and scoffed at the notion, insisting his current course was the correct and safer one. Abram wanted to trust the more experienced Bannock, but his quick learning son was starting to prove that his intuition was right more often. Abram returned the call, and signaled the new trajectory to the rest of the pack.

Bannock disregarded the call, and charged along the original path. Abram noticed Bannock, and called out to him.

“This way Bannock!”, Abram yelled out to him. He knew that Bannock was ignoring him, but he couldn’t take his focus off this critical hunt. Abram also suspected the increasing threat Randulf was to Bannock’s Beta status. Gritting his teeth with frustration, all he could do now was trust Bannock’s luck.

Randulf soon had visual confirmation of his target, and signaled to the rest of the pack. He now needed to get ahead and force her north to the others. Though the elk was tiring from running and minor blood loss, she still pushed on. To save precious energy, she took a lower and longer route to the right that went downhill. Randulf kept his course true, and bounded straight on an incline. He knew he could outpace her in the open, but he suspected his father led her into the forest for another reason. That reason soon presented itself when he heard the bellow of a bull elk, searching for one of his mates. Renewed, the panicked cow picked up her pace again.

Time was evermore critical at this point, and Randulf knew. If the cow caught up to her herd, it was over. Energy, any predator’s most precious resource, would’ve been wasted for nothing. A narrow gorge separated his run, but he would waste valuable time trying to circumvent down it. Randulf knew he had to make a critical jump. Accelerating to full speed at the crest, he sprung into the air as he pushed off the slippery edge of the gorge. His chest slammed into the top of the other side, and he winced in pain as he felt a rib crack. Still in motion, Randulf pushed and pulled himself onto the top of the other side. His breath came in short and labored gasps as he accelerated ahead.

The big female elk knew the valley she came from was very close, as would be her herd. The frightening chase that only the weak and old experience would finally end. This can’t happen, not to a fully healthy adult. Starting to corner the last mound of trees, she caught a glimpse of the valley that would give her freedom from this nightmare of pursuit. She heard the call from the bull again, only much closer. The elk briefly closed her exhausted eyes in relief of seeing the comforting view of the nearby valley. She opened them to see the valley again... and Randulf standing waiting for her.

Horror filled the elk’s eyes as she saw the confident and unmoving eyes of this new predator that started stalking toward her. This was not the same predator that initially chased her and fell down the ridge with her. The fear was not fully realized because her path was blocked, or that a different predator now faced her. Her instincts knew this kind of predator. Her horror heightened because her instincts told her this predator was not alone.

Randulf stood tall and menacing as he walked slowly toward her baring his long white teeth, driving her back in the forest. The pain is his chest pierced, and hurt immensely. He could not show any weakness now. He had to look as strong as always, for if he did not, he knew she could run right over him.

The cow let out a cry and started to dart northwest into a small clearing surrounded by dense vegetation. She was soon face to face with her initial pursuer, Abram. The frightened female turned to run northeast, but soon stopped as she saw half a dozen night shined eyes coming into the clearing in front of her, and closing in.

A sleek and nearly black female wolf, Shoshone, came immediately over and stood next to Randulf’s side, covering any possibility of escape to the south.

Her heart nearly exploding from fear of death, the cow elk looked one last desperate time for a chance of escape. Of those that surrounded her, she spotted two. A panting old female, Lyall, and a male who always walked hunched and crouched low to the ground, Meritt. Ignoring the pain in her damaged leg, she made a quick jump over them.

The worn down teeth of Lyall missed, but the jaw of Meritt grabbed some skin from the cow’s leg and slowed her down. A kick from her powerful hoof sent Meritt backward with a yelp. Infuriated, Randulf shot out at her as she turned her head, and clamped down on her throat. The cow elk bucked wildly, but Randulf held fast and bit down harder despite the incredible pain in his torso.

A swarm of vicious canine teeth sank into the elk as the rest of the pack charged in and tore at her. Warm blood poured from the numerous gashes, and precious breath was next to impossible from the vice-like grip of Randulf’s muzzle.

Meritt roused as their helpless thrashing prey fell to the ground, with his tail between his legs. Though customary for him, he could tell something was wrong. He took in a deep breath, and had a new and strong smell in his nostrils. He felt a rumble in the wet ground rapidly growing in intensity.

“Bull!” Meritt cried out to the pack, shortly before a massive bull elk came crashing through the dense underbrush. The enraged bull caught the cowering Merrit with a tip of an antler, and flung him into the side of an aspen tree as though he were a squirrel.

“This is not good”, Shoshone nervously told her chosen mate, Randulf. She knew her mate was injured and could not fight such a formidable foe. Shoshone saw Meritt was down, and knew Bannock was missing.

Abram knew they were three down, and had to think fast. “Scatter!”, Abram commanded them.

The wolves all rushed in different directions to seek cover from the large bull that wanted his mate back. This male elk wielded an antler rack as impressive as his size, and his long muscular legs would easily shatter bone with one well placed kick. Long shaggy fur covered his neck and body, helping shield against the teeth of his intelligent, but much smaller enemies.

Fleeing in different directions, Randulf bumped hard into Shoshone, and aggravated his rib injury. The huge male elk saw the limping Randulf and charged straight at him. Shoshone realized the plight, and tried to buy him some time. Barely ducking under the antler swing that whooshed inches above her, she made her way behind the bull. Barking and nipping at the elk’s hind legs, she got his attention. As she fled, the bull knew he couldn’t chase her. He turned his attention back on Randulf.

Randulf slowly crawled his way into a narrow gap between two pine trees, followed immediately by the thunderous crash of the bull’s antlers into the low hanging branches behind him. The force of the impact nearly snapped the thick branches, and sent a shower of water and pine needles onto Randulf and the bull.

The bull couldn’t fit through, and turned to get his struggling cow out of harm’s way. The cow could barely move, let alone stand. He caught the sight of the rusty colored Meritt lying motionless on the side of the clearing he’d charged into. The huge male went over to finish him off, to send a dire message to the other wolves... stay away from my herd, or pay with your lives.

A shadowy figure quickly leapt through the ground hugging ferns and into the clearing, sinking it’s teeth into the hind leg of the defending bull elk. The elk wheeled around to face Bannock. The dark wolf’s steel eyed gaze fixed on the bull, backing away farther from the cow and Meritt, leading the bull away.

“Do it now!” Bannock yelled out. “Finish her!”

Abram knew exactly what Bannock intended. Wasting no time, he charged in and latched his powerful jaws on the frontal portion of the neck of the cow. As the bull turned toward him, he yanked hard with all his might, severing the jugular and tearing most of the throat from her.

“Everyone in!” Abram barked out. The pack rushed in from the undergrowth with ears flat and growling, putting themselves between the bull, and the unconscious Meritt. Randulf limped in and stood guard over Meritt, baring his teeth and daring anyone try to harm him.

The bull saw the once proud life fade from his dying cow’s eyes. There was a hungry pack in front of him, and nothing left here to fight for. Huffing in anger, he casually turned and left through the large hole he created in the forest. He had other mates, and would find more. There was no sense in blindly risking any harm to himself.

As the sound and smell of the bull left them, the pack eased. Ears relaxed into upright positions, and nervous tails eased out from under their legs.

As the pack relaxed, Abram looked at each of them to evaluate the situation. He could see Meritt coming to under Randulf’s protective watch, though he was bleeding and bruised. There were injuries, but they would survive. His last look fell on Bannock, who just returned a cocky smile.

The expected return smile from Abram never happened. What he received was a swift and furious thrashing from Abram that quickly sent him to the still wet substrate of the forest with a yelp, the alpha’s place firmly on top of the beta.

“I saved the pack!” protested Bannock, with the fury of Abram’s gaze bearing down upon him.

“You nearly got some of us killed by your actions!” screamed Abram, his hot breath inches from Bannock’s face. “By going off on your own, you put yourself at risk and weakened the pack. If you had been with us when you were supposed to, we could’ve had the cow before there was even a fight. Look what happened to Meritt!” Abram motioned his head in the direction of the still lying Meritt. Soft whimpers came from the crowd that gathered around him.

“Meritt? He’s just the omega!”, Bannock further defied his Alpha.

“The beta is just as expendable as the omega”, Abram growled lowly to Bannock with his intense eyes locked on his beta. Bannock’s wide eyes and mute reply suggested that the meaning of his alpha’s reply stuck. “If we leave him, we leave you”, Abram said with a cold finality. Bannock had never been threatened like this, and knew what it meant. The only fate worse than death was exile. For exile was a death sentence to his kind, accompanied by loneliness and starvation. A lone wolf is a dead wolf.

“We stick together not just because it pleases us”, Abram addressed everyone as much as he did Bannock, letting him up and walking toward the elk carcass he had first take on.

“We stick together to survive. We stick together because it is our way. We stick together because...”, Abram paused as he reached the carcass and turned to face the others, making sure the point was driven to the entire pack.

“Because we are wolves!”