[Chapter 4.]

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Remember that wolf I had heard howling in the distance? Well, it didn't quite disappear like nice little wolves in books often do. It was a cruel and unusual wolf. Instead of finding a lonely mountaintop from which he could howl at the moon, he had gone and found some of his friends so that he could go on a little hunting expedition. I think you can guess what happened next.

I was sitting as close to the fire as I could, covered with a thick red blanket; Alan lay asleep on the other side of the fire, stirring fitfully every now and again. He had kept watch and tended the fire earlier while I slept, but now I was taking another turn; he needed his sleep to keep going like he had been. I sat there thinking and listening to the night sounds: wind in the branches, the crackling of the fire, Mudge’s occasional movement in the cave further behind me. There were many many things going on inside my head. But I instantly snapped out of my reverie when I started hearing other noises, noises uncharacteristic of the night. I tried to place them. Then, as the noise drew nearer, it hit me all at once. The confused din sounded like a melee of dangerous animals, fierce and threatening. Wolves. There were no other creatures on earth that could make those sounds. I stiffened with fear, and swallowed hard. This couldn’t be happening, could it? No.

Yes. It was happening, and I didn’t have any more time to think. Instantly I had crossed over to the sleeping Alan, and shaken him awake. “Do you hear them? Wolves. Do you hear? Are they wolves??” “Wolves…” He muttered sleepily, opening his eyes and blinking in the darkness. Then, “Wolves!” he exclaimed, up on his feet in a moment, and rushing for his bow and arrow. “Get back in the cave!” he directed, turning back towards the threatening sounds. It sounded like a hungry wolf pack was fast approaching, heading straight towards us in the darkness. “Here, take these.” He  hurriedly handed me his sword and a dagger. I’d never used a sword before, and this seemed the worst time to start. As I tried to figure out how I was even supposed to hold it, swallowing hard and frightened half to death, Alan stood at the entrance to the cave with the other dagger in his belt, and his bow held up with an arrow to  the string.

This had all come about much faster than it takes to tell it, and much faster still the wolves burst out into the clearing in front of us, eyes green and glowing like coals. We stood behind the fire, hoping that the still glowing coals would discourage them (sometimes plans fail). Alan was firing off arrows before they got within 60 feet of us, and by the sounds issuing from the darkness, it was plain he had hit dead meat.

Now I like dogs. I like them more than most people. But when there are over a dozen of them, and they’re all mangy wolves with devilish eyes and drooling jaws just waiting to sink their teeth into your flesh, they begin to lose their charm. I once wondered if I could ever make myself kill an animal. I surely found out that night. Alan had shot off several arrows with perfect accuracy, but you can’t kill five wolves in a shot; by the time the pack had reached us there were still about nine left.They had seemed to start back as they noted the fate of the leaders in front, but wolves aren’t easily dissuaded from a fresh kill; they hung back in the shadows for a moment, snarling like starving tigers, rustling through the bushes and making my stomach churn with fright. Then, all in one swift movement, they leaped over the fire and into our cave.

Alan was to the left shooting the last of his arrows, and I was in the back of the cave shakily holding my sword as it shimmered in the firelight. While the wolves were still in the distance he had shoved me back behind Mudge. I had taken a breath; then I stood ready, waiting for my one and only chance at a kill before I myself was killed. Adrenaline does crazy things. As the first wolf jumped straight for me, I lunged forward, and with a clean swipe, almost took off its head. I spun around and stabbed another one in the heart, using all my might to thrust the blade deeper. I thought all was over with me then, but the one character I had left out of the equation was Mudge.

As common sense would dictate, she wasn’t standing there calmly letting wolves eat her back. Instead, she’d turned into a ball of hooves and lightning; she had a kick that could knock a giant stone cold, and she sure lit into those wolves. She’d kicked four of them out before I could stagger onto my feet again; I looked over to see Alan wrestling the last wolf to death with the dagger he’d stowed in his belt. When the confusion cleared, nine wolves lay dead on the cave’s stone floor, two by my hand, three by Alan’s, and four by the hooves of Mudge. Looking down at my blood covered hands, I shuddered and  dropped my sword.

 “Are you alright?” A voice broke into my stunned consciousness. “Are you hurt?” I looked up numbly, rooted to the spot upon which I stood. Alan stood in front of me, growing more concerned at my dazed silence; putting his hand on my shoulder, he urged again. “Meredith, I need you to talk to me. Are you hurt?”  “I.. don’t think so.. Did that just happen?” I faltered. My knees felt very weak. “Did that really just happen?” I repeated in disbelief, staring at the dead wolves strewn about the cave floor. One or more of them were still twitching, a ghastly sort of life still present in their scrawny limbs. “Well... what do you think?” Alan asked, then, his sarcasm quickly fading away, “You were very brave.” A look of respect showed on his face. “I thought for sure you were a goner. Did you see what you did to that wolf? You almost took its head clean off! I didn’t know you had it in you.”

It would have been nice if I could have shrugged it off like I was used to such occurrences. But no. A flood of hot relief rushed over me all at once, and, betraying every ounce of willpower I possessed, I melted into tears. Alan was sympathetic, but I could tell he didn’t know what to say. I turned my face away, then, blinking and swallowing hard, I wiped the tears off my face.

 I turned back to him. “You were pretty brave yourself.” I finally responded, looking up at his face. Then, “Are you alright??” I asked in alarm; his forehead was bleeding and his shirt was dyed red, though I couldn’t tell with whose blood. “I’ve been worse. I’ve also been better.” He winced in pain. “I don’t like the sound of that.” I said, unhelpfully.  Alan reached down and wrenched his dagger from the heart of the grisly beast nearby. “Look at his teeth.” I shuddered, gingerly pointing to its mouth; the nasty tongue lolled out over razor sharp canines in an almost humorously morbid manner. Suddenly in the distance the cry of wolves was heard. Alan and I glanced at each other, obviously with the same thought in our minds.  “Let’s get out of here.”