"Kima 2: Dingo" by Jessifer HowlsWithWolves Gaudet

Chapter 2

We seek no retribution;

We seek no meal reward.

We merely follow the dawn and dusk,

And with what Nature has implored.

We are the Hunters.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had a good meal. Was it two weeks ago? Three? Three and a dash of a few days? It didn’t matter, though. There was no difference; My stomach seemed to have shriveled up ages ago.

I moaned at my brother as my stomach coiled and made my fur crawl. I collapsed to the ground and gnawed at the dirt and my paws, anything to satisfy my greedy belly. Oli was in no better shape. Other than insects, a few blades of grass, and some underchewed pieces of wood, our diet was not at all filling for a young wolf. Oli had done his best to hunt, and so had I, but our attempts were beyond pointless. Though we knew the concept of hunting, we didn’t know the art. We didn’t have the experience.

"Kima, don’t chew your paws," Oli groveled, stooped over to curb the hunger pains. "It will hurt to walk." Though the hunger pains didn’t hurt as much now that we’d gone without a decent meal over the past round moon, it had become more of a habit to arch our backs. I couldn’t imagine Oli, or myself for the matter, without arched backs. Even my past memories of us revealed us to be stooped over, even though we were well fed by then. Strange.

How we’d survived this long, I don’t know. It couldn’t have been through our dainty diet, could it? Maybe it was just enough to keep us alive, but not for long.

"I’m sooo hungry, Oli," I complained in an empty yawn. The inside of my mouth felt dry and pasty, even though we had the Great River nearby to drink from. It had ceased its dancing (though I saw it as tumbling, not dancing) ever since the storm passed several weeks ago. We had plenty of safe drinking, and we’d seen nothing of the badger mother. But still yet, though a round moon has waxed and waned, our own Mother had not returned.

Why she hadn’t, I’d probably never find out. We’d stayed at the den, guarding each other every night we spent alone. We never drifted far from home, where our family could easily find us if they wanted to. But they never came back. Never. I wondered if something happened to them.

Oli couldn’t take it anymore. He sprang up and dashed out of the shade of the den’s mouth. Almost crazily, he flashed his white teeth at the buzzing insects above. He jumped and squirmed and whined. I watched, saddened. I, too, wanted to jump and snap and hope to catch at least one, but I knew I would never catch a buzzing bug. Ground bugs were easy prey, but they had a beastly taste that left my mouth burning, and it made my stomach’s mood even worse. I whimpered to myself and placed my head on my paws. We were failures at hunters. We were even bested by snakes, who could fend for themselves right after breaking their shells.

I closed my eyes and wanted to sleep. Wanted to escape the pains that rent my belly. Wanted to escape it all. I wanted to sleep forever, and not have to hunt. To never be hungry again, or thirsty. I just wanted peace.

I listened to Oli’s frantic snarls. He was desperate to live, desperate to survive. A real fighter. He wouldn’t die without giving up. He’d never give up. I admired him and his defiance. He was special. Strong. Brave. Cunning. He had all the qualities of a true wolf. But I was weak, so weak. I had no yearning to live. I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted to disappear, quietly, so the world would have never known I was there, and would have never made me hungry.

Oli was suddenly quiet. I opened one eye and peeked at him.

He wasn’t there.

I immediately stood up, ignoring my stomach’s protests as it was forced to stretch. I stared at the bushes, eyes wide. I could not believe he was gone so suddenly. Maybe he’d seen a butterfly and pranced off after it. Maybe. As I stood there, I only hoped, hoped that he would spring out of those bushes and bark happily, that it was all a joke. Seconds rolled by, but they felt like an eternity. I only stared, stared and stared and stared, poised, erect, and hoping.

But Oli never appeared. He had left, and didn’t come back, just like Mother. My tail instantly drooped. I whimpered. Why had he left me? Why? Why had Mother left me, and never come back? I sank to my belly and whined to myself. Softly, at first. I didn’t want to be too loud, and attract some unwanted attention. But as time rolled on, my cries grew louder. Before I even realized it, I was howling, that same wholesome, lonesome howl, from a whole round moon ago. But it didn’t make my heart swell this time. Oli was gone. So was Mother. And I had no hope. I would die alone.

The bushes suddenly began to quake. I deserted my depressing thoughts and sprang to my feet, joyful that Oli had heard my howls. I yipped in delight. I barked in delight. Delight, delight, delight. I had no thought of danger, and was a fool to be so dumb. Oli emerged from the bushes, his shiny grayish-black coat streaming in the sunlight as he loped towards me. I suddenly felt a strange tinge of fear in my heart, and realized my mistake. My heart sank.

For I was looking up at Oli, instead of level, and the black wolf before me was not Oli at all.

For all I knew, this towering wolf was a lone, hungry wolf, eager to feed on a little pup as a little snack. An itty, bitty, little snack. Maybe it had already eaten Oli.

For a moment, it was a staring standoff. Our eyes never strayed from each other. We waited to see who would make the first move. If it meant to fight, I would fight. But then again, I was weak with hunger, and I was still a pup and only half the size of the black wolf. I would stand no chance. After a few seconds of consideration, I decided it was not worth the effort, the energy, nor the pain. I turned my head away and waited for the wolf to snap at my head and end my hurting life.

But that never happened.

"Why so fearful, little pupling?" came a deep voice. I still cringed. Was this wolf mocking me in my fear? The black wolf slowly walked towards me and lowered his snout.

To my face.

I waited for his jaws to part and close on my neck, all those sharp teeth eager to break my little, fragile bones, but still, nothing happened. Instead, the wolf touched my cheek with his wet nose.

"I understand," he said, soothingly. I suddenly felt awkward. What was he saying, and why in this dire situation? "It hurts very much. This thing called loneliness." I took it like an arrow to the heart. I wanted to cry, not of hunger, not of lonesomeness, but of an unrequited pain that deep down inside I’d hoped would be resolved. This lone wolf seemed to truly understand. I could tell. His eyes had that same, deep, longing look I felt I had. We both wanted to be without that pain called lonesomeness.

Oli leapt out of the bushes and startled us both. Before the bigger wolf could react, Oli lunged at him…and crashed into his trunk like leg. Rolled over so his vulnerable belly was exposed, Oli looked up pleasantly at the large wolf, as if he’d discovered a star. A big black star.

"Look at who I found!" he proclaimed happily. He rolled onto his belly and jumped up like a spring. He pranced up to the large black wolf and placed a paw on the wolf’s much, much larger paw. It was the size of Oli’s head. "I found a wolf, a big one dark as night! Just like me!" That is, if it were a bright moonlit night.

The larger wolf rolled his eyes. "Rather, I believe I found you two myself," he said, peering at me as if I were some mangy mutt that looked at him hungrily. Which I was. "I’m assuming it was you who tried…howling," he growled in a deep, silky voice, comparable to Mother’s, but not as soft. His yellowish eyes darted over our thin, wiry frames, and for the first time since in round moon I realized Oli and I were hardly skin and bones. Our ribs were like little hills on a furry plain and our hips jutted out of our sides like the nubs of a rock. Our legs were so skinny I thought we could easily break them taking one step too many. We were ridiculous. And I could already tell Oli was suppressing his urge to lunge at the large wolf and trying to bite off one of his toes.

"Mrrgumph?" the black wolf growled, interrupting my thoughts. He was growing impatient.

"Oh," I barked, remembering the question. I looked down at my paws, ashamed. "Yes, I did try to howl." The large wolf was taken aback, rearing his head in surprise. He obviously wasn’t expecting a wolf, no matter how little, to howl like that. "Well," he said in an astonished voice. "I figured it was some dying mountain cat. I came expecting an easy meal." He looked back down on us. "Except I found you two, hardly even worth eating." I felt degraded again. As pitiful as it sounded, we weren’t even worth being eaten. We could not supply Mother Nature, even if we wanted to. After all, as the cycle goes, it’s eat or be eaten, predator or not. And when you yourself, on the verge of death, are hardly worth a meal, you’ll die with the greatest shame. You were useless.

The black wolf changed his expression as he realized his talk was no more helpful than a pawful of thorns, reverting to sympathy again. "You two don’t seem to have eaten in many suns. I have seen twigs with greater width than your legs. Why are you starving?" He let us think for a while, but we never gave an answer, just solemn looks. He lifted his head, looking concerned. "More importantly, where is your mother? You two are still pups, and in that condition, it leads me to believe you have no mother at all." More solemn looks. With added sadness in our eyes. Even Oli, who boasted of himself as only brave, strong, and cunning, was sad.

It seemed to be contagious. The black wolf sat down and hung own his neck, suppressing a whine. "Abandoned, I see." His eyes seemed to tell a similar story to ours.

"She went away," I started, my voice quivering as I remembered that cold and lonely night. "The clouds were crying, the river was tumbling, and a beast was flashing and roaring as big as mountains. It was scary, so Mother ran away. But she never came back." Oli changed his expression, looking angry. "She was scared of a white snake from the clouds!" he growled. "I even scared it away with my howl, but she never came back!" The furs on his neck lifted. Oli was mad.

The black wolf cocked his head to the side. "White snake?" he asked himself. It took him a moment to think of what Oli meant. "Oh," he said in realization. He looked down on Oli, who growled at a ground beetle next to his paw. "You do mean lightning, don’t you?" Oli flicked his ears, but continued to seethe in anger. The black wolf turned to me. "And by ‘a beast was flashing and roaring as big as mountains’, you mean lightning and thunder?" I decided to nod, though those two new words were lost on me. Lightning and Thunder. Those were the names of the creatures that caused sky flashes and huge roars? I wanted to meet them.

Oli was now stomping on the beetle. The black wolf immediately stepped in and brushed Oli to the side with his massive leg. "Whoa there, bucko, leave this poor critter alone," the wolf said. "Hunger aside, you have no reason to be beating on him. He’s defenseless against you." Oli snapped at his paw. "First of all," he growled, "my name is Oli, not a bucko. And second, I am hungry, so I do have a reason to be beating on it!" He tried to lunge on the poor overturned beetle again, but the black wolf held him back. "Well, Oli, he wouldn’t even be a decent meal. And you’d be better off leaving him alone anyway, unless you are suicidal about food choices." Oli finally calmed down and looked up at the wolf. "What is suicidal?" he asked, intrigued by the new word.

The big wolf sighed. "You’re mother seems to have taught you nothing of the world. It means you are willing to kill yourself. This is a Lycidae. See how the wings are orange? That is a warning, to tell predators that it is poisonous. If you eat that, it’ll have you writhing on the ground until you’re no more than a skinny corpse." He batted the unfortunate beetle to the side like a rock. I didn’t see where it landed in the tall grass.

"Now then," the black wolf huffed. He seemed ready to get going. "Let’s get on with names. My name is Dingo. As you can see, I am a loner wolf, a former pack member who gambled with the odds and lost. I already know who you are, Oli, o defiant one. What is you’re name, little gray one of silence?" I realized he was talking to me. "Kima!" I blurted out, startled. I shrank back at the volume of my voice. "Kima," I said, in a much softer tone. Dingo nodded approvingly. "Now that we are aquatinted with each other, how about I catch you two a decent meal. Like a rabbit, or a few squirrels?" He looked up at the trees. "I’ve always hated those little bush-tails." Oli frantically bobbed his head up and down. "Yes please! Yes please, please, please!" I realized he was now whining. We both were very hungry, after all.

Dingo smiled, a great big lupine smile. I was scared looking at all those sharp, lethal teeth. "I now accept you two into my pack. So, as a pack, you two must also help me hunt. But from what I’ve seen with you two, it will be a learning experience. Watch well, hunt well, but dine at your rank. I am the Alpha, so I dine first." His eyes darted from me to Oli, me to Oli, over and over. "From what I can tell, Oli is dominant over you, Kima, so he gets to eat before you. Oli will be the beta wolf. You shall be the omega, unless you gain dominance over Oli. Now! Let us get on with the hunt. Follow me in your appropriate ranks!" He promptly began to trot away. Oli and I didn’t budge, expecting him to stop and wait. I"m not sure what compelled us to wait. Would he abandon us like Mother?

"Now is your chance for survival," Dingo called over his shoulder. "You are welcome to stay here at your den, but remember, you are also welcoming death!" We quickly sprang up and galloped towards Dingo. And sped past him. We’ll show him who’s going to welcome death.

With the wind rushing through my thickening coat, I realized I hadn’t felt so good in many round moons, even with hunger ebbing away the edge of my strength. Dingo had to canter to keep up, but at our speed, it wasn’t much of an effort. He didn’t seem at all agitated that we were not staying in accordance with our ranks. In fact, he seemed happy about it. It must be a thing for lone wolves. For the loners, there is no alpha or omega. No black and white. Not even gray. It’s a whole different color.