Sunday, September 13, 2009

Lost

The wolves were circling their prey, analyzing everything about it- which way it will run, how it might fight back, where it's strengths lie. The man, lost, couldn't hear the soft footfalls of his enemy keeping pace. The hair on the back of his neck stood and he quickly took stock of his surroundings; nothing was recognizable from the same looking Quaken Aspen trees, to the same small and large pines, and to the ground littered with lava rock, dirt, and fallen leaves. The leader of the pack gave a twitch to his tail, the signal to wait a little longer, their target was tiring. When the attack came, the alpha was first, springing lightly he pounced on the man from behind, the second from the side. As the third signaled the rest of the pack with his eerie howl, a blood curdling scream escaped the man's bloody lips echoing throught the trees.

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