《Wolves are Meant to Run Wild》Wolf of The Forest

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I blink my eyes open, realizing I must have fallen asleep after I'd had my crisis. The emotional turmoil I had been in seemed so far away, yet so close at the same time, almost as though it was unsure whether or not to stick around.

I groan, lowering my head to the cool earth. My eyes flick to the entrance of my den, the evening light beginning to fade into the dull greys of night. I sigh, licking my nose tiredly.

I wonder if I might ever go home, If I'll ever see my family again. After an hour or so of contemplating, I realize that I might not want to go back. These past three days have been the best three days of my life.

I would miss my brothers, my mother and my father. I would miss my friends, of course... but they already think I'm dead. What would be the point? They'll get over me, one day. I was never anyone to be remembered, the disappointment, not the strongest or the smartest or even the most creative. The average middle child in a family of prodigies.

Out here though, there is no one to disappoint. Out here, I'm not the useless son or the unnoticed brother. Out here, I'm just... alive and free. And I don't think I want to give that up.

###

Three Days Later

My paws thud on the ground as I weave between the trees, laughing. I skid as I dig my claws into the earth, slowing to a near stop before I spring off again with a whoop.

I sprint towards a cliff, panting slightly. I plant my hind paws firmly in the dirt, springing up the ledge and landing at the top.

I scramble a bit, my landing not having quite as graceful as I'd hoped. Once I'm stable, I grin, panting.

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I turn to face the forest beyond the cliff. I look down. The cliff face was about eleven feet tall, it was a surprise my legs could have made that jump, though I suppose I simply underestimate myself.

I look around, ears swivelling wildly as I try to orientate myself. The river was unlikely to be near, as I couldn't hear it... I did hear a trickle of water, though. A brook, maybe?

I had been attempting to map out my new territory these last couple of weeks, as there were no wolves in this area, it was pretty much mine for the taking. The foxes that inhabit the area don't seem so keen on that idea and had tried to attack me on several occasions. It was inconvenient, but they were delicious, so who's the real winner here?

I trot over to a tree and mark it, then return to the cliff's edge. I look left and right, the cliff face in ether direction is lost to the forest.

It looks almost impenetrable, secure from whatever lurks eleven feet below. I sit there a moment, thinking of a name for this cliff, as I had found myself doing frequently these last couple of weeks. Boredom is my greatest enemy.

I settle on The Cliff of Knights, or Knight's Cliff for short.

Satisfied, I continue on my way, finding Knight's Cliff to be naught but a kilometre from my homestead.

As I emerge into the clearing, I begin to consider it from an outsider's perspective. Small bone fragments were strewn about in the grass. The hill and cliff my den was carved into was surrounded by packed mounds of dirt, already sprouting new grass. A small collection of odd rocks I'd found rested at the base of The Bolder of the Stars (what I had named the bolder that resided in my meadow).

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It was an odd sight, from an outsider's perspective; to me, however, It was home. I had carved out a niche in this peaceful forest, giving up any chance at a normal, human life. And I hadn't regretted it!

I trot over to my den, slipping inside it with ease. I had carved it out quite a bit in the last two weeks.

The slope that led to the main chamber was one meter wide and one meter tall, (though I still had to duck thanks to my large size) and led three meters down into the earth. The main chamber was three meters in diameter and two tall with a slightly domed ceiling. Branching off to the left from the main chamber was a smaller, secondary chamber where I kept the bones of my prey to be buried later. The secondary chamber was rectangular and was entered by a three by three by three-foot tunnel, the chamber was roughly half the size of the main chamber.

Coming to a stop by a wall of the main chamber, I carefully and calmly carved the name of the cliff I'd found into the hard dirt with one of my claws. I would later repeat the process on one of the small stones I have lying around.

Satisfied after I had carved it only a little sloppily into the tough material, (I'd had a hell of a time digging this place out) I turn on my heel and set out.

###

I reach the river after a good long while (I had taken the scenic route) and begin to lap up the cool water. I had been left rather parched after my run and the water felt like heaven on my dry throat.

I glance up at a sound from across the river and almost leap out of my skin.

Standing on the opposite bank of the wide river, there were six guardsmen (I could tell from the uniform-like armour and swords) looking rather shocked to see me.

They were frantically talking amongst themselves -I couldn't quite hear from this distance-, some gesturing to me wildly, others glaring in my direction.

I should run, my heart was pumping rapidly, so clearly it agreed with me! But my legs refused to move, it was as though I were frozen in place. I simply sat there, staring at them, eyes wide in panic.

After a moment, the group seemed to come to an agreement, as two of the guardsmen began sprinting into the river, coming right for me.

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