The day felt so peaceful, a gentle breeze flowing over the rocks, fluffing her coat gently as it passed over her. The air was fresh, crisp as it was on every winter day, but something about to day was unusually pleasant. Perhaps it was the fact that she finally felt secure enough to leave the confines of Glorall. It was a nice break from the worry of who the new alpha was.
Suddenly, a leaf crackled behind her, the sound sharp against the quiet of the day. She spins halfway around, her usual jumpy nature giving her swift motion when she required it. She had only a moment to process a female flying through the air towards her before the other female was on top of her. Her spin had changed her angle, something the other female had not anticipated. The other wolf slammed into her side, jaws tearing into her shoulder. Alana was knocked off of her feet, and she frantically tried to scramble away. She was no fighter. In close quarters, she didn’t stand a chance. The few mental facilities not focused solely on the other female cursed her inattentiveness. This was one of the things her mother had warned her to watch out for, and here she was falling right into another’s trap.
Her frantic scrambling ended in a surprised yip, as a second set of teeth grabbed her and pulled her in the direction she was trying to escape in. Once her legs were underneath her, she ran a few steps, putting the second wolf in between herself and her attacker. Clearly he had no interest in harming her, otherwise he would have just joined in with the female’s attack. Two hunting together were always more effective than one. Relief flooded her. If this male was on her side, she would certainly be safe, at least from the female. Two against one were not odds any sane wolf would go up against. Her eyes were large as she watched the two in front of her, all of her muscles tense for if she needed to run. She was no good in a fight, but she was fast, and with the distance she had put between herself in the female, she had enough space to bolt to safety. Or to rush in and help the male should he end up attacking the female. Or if the female should attack him. Alana would not leave her rescuer to face this crazy wolf on his own. She was not that self-serving.
Convinced that the other wolves would be momentarily distracted with each other, she glanced at her shoulder, checking the damage. It was certainly sore, not enough to cripple her or slow her down if she was running for her life, but it would certainly be uncomfortable if she wanted to move with any speed. Still, it was nothing that time would not heal, thanks to her tricolored savior.
“speaks like this”
Alana
. female . six years . 29 inches 85 pounds . no mate . no soul . Glorall .
Kerowyn