The Blue Wolf (Part 2)

Autumn. Three months had passed. She came to him a few more times. Sometimes, something caught her attention, and she'd ask curious questions in a neverending stream - he'd answered the all. Other times, both of them just sat or lied close to each other, neither conversing with sound, but with subtle gestures, such as a nod of the snout, a glance, a flare of nostrils. She was still waiting, he knew, for more glimpses about his own life from himself, but he was just as patient. He know the time was not yet then, but it would come soon.

That day had come.

Rising from his midday nap, his instincts immedtiately howled danger. He bounded out of his den, and the scents in the wind confirmed his suspicions. Humans. He bared his teeth as he thought of what he would face soon, grinned inwardly in anticipation at the thought of having to do it.

The humans are moving southeast, towards the den where her family had been resting. Wasting no more time, he loped eastwards, downwind, so that he can track the humans and learn of them.

Let's hunt, he called, to the winds, the the earth, to the skies.

* * *

The humans are lounging on the ground, each and every one of them arming themselves with the guns and nets. He was watching them from afar, and noted that they'd only brought two dogs, which means that these humans weren't capable enough to enlist the aid of more - or dangerously confident in their capabilities.

No matter. Either they'll be scared away, their non-existent tails between their knees, or they will have their throats ripped apart. He slinked away, leaving no noise, no trails, not even scents that can be picked out by the hounds nose.

Now, to set up the scene - and give both sides in the inevitable battle a surprise. For he knew, in his heart of hearts, that these people will not give up the hunting of wolves, ill-equipped they may seem.