"Riding Hood--Chapter 1" by Erin N. Conley

Such perfect days are both rare and fleeting. Spring was drawing to a close, which meant that the weather was perfect (for those in the QuickPaw wolf pack, at any rate), with the sun gleaming through the new spring leaves that provided the first shade for the heat, as though suddenly awakened and called to duty; and with a breeze winding through the trees whistling pleasantly as though heralding the upcoming summer, and providing cool relief for those wolves with thicker fur.

Of course, the breeze served another purpose for Kell. They were downwind of their prey, as if the stupid beasts would be able to detect their scent anyway. The herd of two-horns stood placidly and obliviously, tearing up mouthfuls of grass almost gleefully, having gone rather hungry through the winter of brown grasses and dormant trees. Kell thought they looked delicious. His muscles were tense and quivering as he resisted every urge to lunge right away and sink his teeth into some good meat; for he, too, had suffered a winter of hunger, for the pack had found it difficult to find enough edible animals to feed their families. But this summer Kell would be making his debut as a hunter--assuming he ever lived up to his grandfather's standards, that is.

"Could you step a bit more lightly?" his grandfather hissed at him now. "They'll hear us a mile away if you keep thudding through the underbrush like that."

Kell could easily see that the two-horns hadn't heard them, even though they were only a few yards away, and they were still eating as hungrily as ever. All the same, Kell checked himself, rolling his weight onto his toes and creeping along in the wake of his grandfather, who stealthily glided as though his legs weren't moving at all, then stopped behind a large bush that only barely separated them from the herd, which was now only feet away. Kell shivered in anticipation and crouched down low, waiting eagerly for his grandfather's signal. Much to his surprise and annoyance, his grandfather didn't move a muscle.

"We're in position! It's time to attack!" he growled. His grandfather looked at him reproachfully for speaking, but risked an answer.

"Haven't you learned anything yet? We have to wait for one to get exactly close enough, or else we'll pounce and hit nothing, and scare all the beasts away in the process! Now be quiet."

"But that one at the edge there! It's close enough! And it looks weaker than the others too."

"It's not close enough....just a little closer...." His grandfather's voice faded to almost nothing, his eyes focused entirely on the nearest beast.

Kell had had quite enough. No longer would his grandfather hold him back. He lunged forth from the bush toward the two-horn, who let out a bellow that reverberated through the trees, and turned and sprinted to join the rest of the herd, which was stampeding away from the trees. To his anger and embarrassment, Kell landed only a foot shore of the two-horn, and scrambled to still succeed by reaching out and swiping at the animal's hindquarters; but it wasn't enough, and the two-horn's pitiful cry echoed after it as it limped off after its herd, still too quickly for the wolf's pursuit. Kell hung his head and waited for his grandfather's rebuke.

He risked raising his head slightly when there was no sound. Finally he heard the soft padding of paws toward him, and he closed his eyes and braced himself. Maybe he really was a disgrace to the pack.

But rather than snarl at him, his grandfather spoke softly, not necessarily comfortingly, but without emotion. "You have learned a valuable lesson. Come, we will find another. And we will attack correctly this time."

Kell had little choice but follow after him. He stared at his grandfather a moment before trotting to catch up, not daring to speak but comforted by the lack of admonishment. His hopes began to rise again and he eagerly looked to his sides for another herd, or even a promising lone deer or rabbit.

It wasn't long before he was distracted. Without warning, his grandfather stopped in front of him, forcing Kell to veer off to the side to avoid crashing into him. He held his head erect and looked to either side. They had come to a little-used path, overgrown with weeds but still usable. But looking in each direction Kell saw nothing. He looked at his grandfather questioningly, then realized that he was sniffing rather than looking. Kell took an experimental sniff; sure enough, there was a creature upwind that he had never smelled before.

They waited, cautiously crouching in the shadows of the trees, and presently they heard voices. They couldn't understand them, but that was to be expected; they already knew it wasn't another pack of wolves coming their way. The waited silently until the creatures came to view, and Kell looked at them in puzzlement.

They were most peculiar creatures. They walked only on two legs and were completely devoid of fur except for the tops of their heads and just above their eyes, and their skin was an odd shade of pale brown. . .Or most of it was, anyway. On their body and what Kell guessed was their legs were a different materials some blue, some green, some brown. Whether this was part of their natural bodies or something they had somehow attached, he wasn't sure. He glanced quizzically at his grandfather, whose face brightened at the sight of the creatures.

"I know these!" He murmured quietly. "They're humans! My brother made friends with one when we were pups, just went right up to it and it started patting him and nuzzling him and they were friends instantly. They're very kind and friendly creatures."

"So they're safe?" Kell asked, not entirely convinced. The long poles strapped to the humans' backs made him uneasy somehow, though he had never seen them before. But grandfather knew better than he did.

"Oh yes, my brother was friends with one that would never hurt a flea. They're harmless creatures from what I've seen. Watch, I'll show you."

With that, Kell's grandfather rose from his position behind a tree and trotted eagerly out in front of the humans. Perhaps a bit too eagerly, as the human on the left, the bigger one, reached immediately for the rod on his back, scowling at the older wolf with anger and fear. His grandfather gave them a winning grin, prancing around them, which seemed to confuse the bigger human. He turned to his comrade and seemed to be discussing with him, occasionally gesturing to the wolf with the end of his rod. As the rod hit the side of his head, the wolf growled slightly to warn the human to be more careful next time. But the warning sounded too much like a threat.

Kell winced as he heard a piercing noise he had never heard before, like an explosion. It looked like an explosion too, as he had to close his eyes against the flash that came with the noise. It was as though a thunderstorm had been contained in that rod, and the human had let it loose. Kell opened his eyes again, expected to see his father bounding back away from the noise, but what he saw instead horrified him.

His grandfather was laying on the ground, a dark pool spreading around him as though he were sinking into his own blood. The human smirked and produced a bag from the pack at his hip, and stooped over to pick the wolf up by the tail and stuff it in.

"Grandfather!" cried Kell as he leaped toward the scene, but the human heard his yelp and immediately pointed the rod at him, forcing Kell to retreat back into the trees at full speed. He narrowly dodged the next bullet, which kicked up the dust a few feet away from him. Not knowing what else to do, he dashed back to the camp, where the others of the QuickPaw pack were still luxuriating in the sunshine.

* * * * *

"We have lost one of our own. He will not be forgotten. We will not forget." The voice of the pack's chief boomed.

"We will not forget." The rest of the pack obediently chorused.

Laurd was Kell's father, as well as the chief of the pack. He gently and comfortingly nuzzled his son's ear as he passed, pacing in and out of the rows of wolves both old and young. Kell held back a whimper. He had to be strong, like it or not. He had to be.

"These humans have turned dangerous. They must not be allowed here."

"They must not be allowed," came the agreement.

"Therefore. Henceforth from now, any human seen in QuickPaw borders must be terminated. Hunters will stand guard. Any human seen in our territory will be killed." He looked sympathetically at a mother who gathered in her two pups and lay there quivering. "Don't worry. You will be kept safe. Your children will be kept safe." He looked up and stepped back, addressing the pack as a whole. "I have spoken. Hunters will meet with me shortly to be assigned a patrol time."

"We will obey," recited the pack, and the crowd dispersed.

Laurd looked directly at Kell, who tried to give him his bravest look. "You will take the first watch, Kell," he said, and then moved away to talk to the other Hunters.

Kell noticed the subtlety with which his father acknowledged him as having a Hunter status now. But he was too distraught to feel any joy about it. A shadow had been cast over the pack, one that would not fade.