Warning: Violence and death
The late summer of the tundra cast the deserted plains in a soft sunset that stretched on for weeks. Beyond the rolling foothills of fading grasses and stones was a white figure. The arctic wolf's fur, glowing orange in the dying light was trailed by a rather small band of thin pups. The lone mother was panting hard, breaking her quickened trot to gaze behind her. The pups were exhausted and struggling to keep up, but not once was a complaint uttered from them. The fear in their eyes had said it all; only the heavens knew what they had experienced that day.
Their mother leapt onto a tipped over boulder to scan their trail, and her body tensed. In the distance there was another arctic wolf, moving at a leisure pace. The she wolf glanced down at her pups; they were too exhausted to stand, let alone run away. She ushered them within the shadow of the boulder and stood to confront the stranger.
The wolf strolling into view was a male. In fact it was the male from the same pack that killed her pup just a few hours ago. His torn right ear flicked in the dim light and he panted, tongue lolling out in instinctual pleasure. The She wolf perked her ears forward, her scarred face hiding her fear behind aggression.
Fear for the safety of her remaining three pups, she stepped forward to meet him. The male seemed rather taken with her, tail raising in a stiff wag as he trotted up to her. She gave a low growl, ears pinned back in an attempt to throw him off course. The male dismissed her warnings and approached with a raised gate, his intentions under a casual facade. It seemed aggression would not work in this instance.
She mocked a play bow towards him, feigning interest, taking his attention away from the litter. He followed her dance, step by step, buying into her distractions. The act began to crumble the closer he moved to the boulder. Soft licks became harsh nips, brushing of pelts became forceful. The male's temper snapped when he realized it was just a game. He snapped at her muzzle, drawing blood and a howl of pain. His rage was redirected at a pup's worried expression as he dipped his soft head into view at his mother's cry.
Time slowed as the male through their mother aside and lunged forwards, straight towards the unfortunate pup. A resounding shriek echoed into the she wolf's ears, and she scrambled to her feet. The screams were cut off but a choked snarl as the mother slammed into the male, teeth wrapped around the back of his neck in a vice like grip. He whirled his head around and tore into her left flank, his canines drawing blood. She gave a snarling cry in pain and ripped herself away from him, her side bleeding freely. Before the male could harm them any more she sank her teeth into his face, shaking her head in a firm grip. The male cried out in pain and tried to pull away, causing more flesh to be torn on his sensitive face.
A moment later he freed himself in a sharp pull, blood trailing through the air. The male began backing away, tail tucked to defend his sensitive areas and ears down. She berated him with more sharp bites to the rump, sending him running. The male galloped back to his pack, his pride damaged and a face to match her own.
The mother licked the blood from her muzzle and returned to her litter. Two pups crowded around the victim, his pitiful whimpers causing her to groom him out of comfort. The pup's lower half of his small frame was horribly injured. Blood flowed softly from his soft flank, now warped and distorted from bone fractures and internal bleeding.
When the pup's eyes met his mother's there was fear in those soft depths. Her darker eyes held sadness and apologies as she settled down next to him to lick his wounds clean.
The pup wouldn't survive to see his next meal. The best she could offer him was comfort.
Until the end.
Author's Note: It's a hard life for single mother Nanuq. You can learn more about her here:
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