Dance, my little puppets,

Spr/1.4/02  

     Her ears tilted forwards when the smaller wolf came to an abrupt halt, but her stride didn’t break pace. She was still a ways behind. Her silent paws decreased their speeds as she neared the other wolf, still hidden by the shadows of the foliage, until finally, she paused mid step. Her eyes seared holes into Maeve’a neck as she pointed her like a hunting hound to no one in particular. Was she surprised? No. As the hunter, she took what came now. There was no past or future, no plan she particularly followed. There were only recognized patterns from her years on the hunt. Now that Maeva had stopped, she was no longer waiting for the pup’s exhaustion, but rather, for her curiosity.

     Nakki was still as a statue as she watched her prey out on the field. She didn’t proceed, for she would be discovered if she set paw into the clearing. But then those metallic eyes turned on her. Maeve perhaps was unaware that she lurked in the foliage just a bound and a half away, but it made the impact of her gold and silver eyes all the more exciting. Crazed eyes, searching for a rush, caused Nakki’s breath to halt and her hear to pause. Her little found toy had felt the edge of being suspended between fear and elation and seemed desperate for more.

     Her fur began to prickle as the second of eye contact seemed to stretch over a minute. Then Maeve’s eyes traveled away. Her heart began to pound again and Nakki’s tongue flashed over her lips in relief of stress and also in eagerness. This little morsel of a wolf wouldn’t find her end today, Nakki concluded. Maeve was far too precious a gift to murder. And so, Nakki let a different sort of instinct… not one of a hunter, but of… of a teacher (?) – Hell if Nakki knew exactly what feeling had overcome her drive to digest her pet coyote, but it was there – take over. Maeve’s whine was all the convincing Nakki needed to attack.

     She lunged for the foliage. No explosion of leaves or snapping branches and no explosive noise of splattering puddle water announced the lunge. Only the inevitable rustle of the leaves as that could be passed as a normal sound in the rain as Nakki left her hiding place warned Maeve of the coming onslaught. Nakki’s fangs flashed viciously as she appeared to make an attempt at severing Maeve’s nervous system by aiming her bite at the base of her neck. However, an on looker with an exceptional, experienced eye would notice the wideness of Nakki’s powerful jaws, which would clue one into her actually intent, which was not to place a precise killing stroke, but instead to secure the scruff of Maeve. If Nakki did, she would attempt to use her significant size and momentum to overpower the smaller female and push her down into the ground and then secure Maeve’s position on there with a paw on her shoulder.

     Was she looking for submission? Hardly. Nakki was simply looking to catch Maeve and scare her in the process of it. Fear was a trait that many thought distasteful, but Nakki thrived on it (either when she was feeling it or causing it). Nothing got the heart racing like the proper form of scare and for her as the predator, smelling it would send her off into another dimension of happiness.

Näkki