Wolf Eyes

“I was crouched not more twelve yards from the wolf pack, standing stock still, knowing that the second I moved the godless beasts would be on me. You should’ve seen them, there was seven of them, largest wolves I’ve ever seen, they had diamond sharp claws , and muzzles coated with blood of the caribou they were eating. They were haunting sight. I’m telling you the fairy tales don’t call them big bad wolves for nothing.

“I thought about turning back. Wolves aren’t something to tangled with. But I knew I couldn’t move, couldn’t make the slightest sound or they’d hear me. I knew I’d just have to wait it out until the wolves finished their caribou dinner and hopefully left the clearing. I could’ve waited them out, spent enough hours waiting silently in the woods, that’s the life of a hunter. But that was when fortune failed me.

“I had forgot to take off my wedding ring before heading off, and I didn’t know I was wearing it until I was well on my way. Out of fear of losing it, I slip it into my pocket. While I was watching the beast feast, from my position tucked tight in a ball behind a bush, the ring fell out of my pocket. Barley thinking, I went to to swoop it back up only to reveal myself to the beasts…”

The storyteller paused for dramatic and effect, and Damon glanced up from the paper he was reading. He had been half listening to the arrogant hunter ramble on his about “grave” encounter with a wolf pack  for the past half-hour and just now looked toward the back corner where a majority of the club had gathered. A gruff looking man was seated at a table with a skinned wolf pelt lying out in front of him while enthrilled listeners surrounded him with wide eyes and shoulders hunched over. The surrounded hunter continued again speaking slower this time to lure his audience in further. Damon sighed and went back to his reading.

“I had just grasped my hand around my ring when I saw the smallest movement in front of me. I looked up and the alpha of the pack, the biggest and fiercest of all the beasts was looking right at me, licking the blood off his fangs. Before the beast could make another move on me, I lifted my rifle and shot the monster dead in the chest. He fell straight down without the slightest howl of death and, the other wolves, they went running right at the sound of the gunshot like the cowards they are.”

“And that’s how I got this beauty here.” the hunter finished laying his hands down on the large gray wolf pelt in front of him. Instantly those his audience erupted into question and comments of praise. The hunter smiled and leaned back, about to quiet down the crowd when he heard one question rung out among the rest, like the call of a hawk among the mindless squawk of pigeons.

“Did you look into his eyes, Rolf?”

The hunter looked up, anger taking over his features. He peered passed  his admirers to scowl at  Damon, who was standing a little ways away with a newspaper clutched in his hand, his face expressionless.

“The wolf’s eyes Rolf,” Damon repeated, “did you look into them?”

“Why would want to look into it’s eyes?” Rolf replayed discussed. The crowd went silent and watched the two men.

Damon shrugged. “I don’t know, you might have seen something in those eyes, you might have learned from them.”

“Learned from them?” Rolf scoft “What could I learn from a stupid animal? I don’t need to look into it’s eyes to tell you what was in em. What was in em was a blank stare like every other damn animal. Blank and stupid and mindless.”

  “There not to different from us, you know.” Damon said, calmly walking towards the table with the wolf pelt. He looked down at the pelt sadly, and stroked the fur like it was a kitten. “Wolves, much like us, are hunters. But they do have an advantage that we don’t, they know the ways of the wild. You could have learned a lot from a wolf.”

Damon looked at Rolf, and Rolf, surprisingly found pity in the other man’s eyes. “You were lucky you know. Those wolves let you see them. Chance are they knew you were there long before you saw them. Those wolves let you see them, and you betrayed them. I would have loved to see a wolf.”

Rolf laughed and beckoned his admirers to join him and after a second, the room became a vortex of the hardy chuckles of men. Damon was waiting patiently for them to be done, when Rolf coughed several times, trying to control his heaving sides.

“That’s quite a strong fairly tale you’ve concocted there.” Rolf choked somewhere between laughing and speaking. “Those are some strong words coming from a coward whose only ever hunted deer and quail. How ‘bout you preach to me after you’ve done have become a real hunter. ”  Again another burst of laughter erupted from the crowd. Once again, Damon waited patiently until Rolf regained control of himself, and the laughter subsided to only a few small snickers set several seconds apart from each other.

“A ‘real hunter’,” Damon laid the words down harshly “doesn’t slay beasts without necessity. A real hunter knows the beasts he hunts and knows the bests role in the wild world. A real hunter only takes what he needs. What use do you have for the pelt of the wolf? Isn’t your house littered enough with animal carcasses?”

Rolf’s mirthful grin was diminished from his face and his brows joined together as Damon spoke. He realized his admirers were watching him closely, awaiting his reply, and he realized he still had influence over them. He let his features calm, and addressed the crowd around him.

“Let’s not let this coward ruin our fun,” he said “we all know who the real hunters are, and they aren’t sissies. In fact, how about  tell you all another story,  you all know I’ve got tons.”

With that the crowd swarmed it’s way around Rolf, and Damon was pushed to the side. Seeing he had failed to reach any of them, Damon left, cursing the fact he had even bothered to step in anyway. He had known it was a lost cause.

While past midnight, Rolf stumbled through the front door of his darkened house. A hysterical grin on his face and a head full of praiseful words and heavy liquor. Eyes half open he tumbled down the hall and into his bedroom. There he heard the faint sigh of deep breathing and a rounded silhouette curled up on the bed. He smiled to himself and kept the lights turned off, crawling into the bed to join her.

As Rolf laid down it occurred to him that the bed sheets had a different feel to them to usual, they were oddly smooth and almost rubbery in texture. He shrugged it off, his wife had probably replaced the old sheets, they had begun to get holes anyway. He rolled over onto his side and went to place his hand lovingly on his wife’s shouldered. However, his hand was not met with her silk skin under his fingers, he felt fur. And he realized with shock that the the deep sighing breaths he thought he had been hearing, were in truth the low snoring growls of a large animal. His hands shaking, he reached up to pull the chain of the lamp on his bed side table.

The light burned into his soul and he his stomach tore open with fear. The sheets below him, were not sheets at all. It was the tanned hide of an animal he had ever seen. He glanced across it franticly, and found a heap of matted raven hair at the end where his feet lay. He moved his feet and her hollow face was revealed from under them.

Rolf heard a deep growl from the other side of the bed. The beast was awake. His whole body shaking, throat dry and silent, he slowly turned his head to face the beast. He stopped shaking. His body froze stiff. He recognized the beast. She was the matriarch from the wolf pack he had seen the day before.The mate of the wolf he had killed.

He met her amber gaze and received his lesson.