A rustle in the bush, he turns slowly, waiting for his target to emerge. It has been a long and unfruitful day. Slowly the wood bends, leather stretches as he inserts the arrow into the bow. He cocks his right eyebrow as the left eye closes. Standing perfectly still, man and bow becomes one.
Another rustle; he regulates his breath. The targets as not yet become visible. Then suddenly a wolf pup jumps from the greenery. Its mother shortly on its heels. The pup has not seen the Hunter, but the mother sniffs the air as she gets his scent, the scent of danger and death; the human scent.
She sees him with his bow, ready to shoot. He hesitates. Their eyes lock; his brown eyes with her golden orbs. She does not attack nor does she retreat. She stands her ground, ready to attack to protect her pup. He does not relax his arm. The pup still chasing its tail, blissfully unaware or the imminent danger.
He admires her courage, her instinct to protect; her maternal instinct. He also admires her for just what she is: a ferocious predator, but also as a social creature, albeit a dangerous one, one that belongs to group, that would protect its kind fiercely.
He does not lower the bow, not because he is afraid; he is just careful. He has learnt long ago never to underestimate anybody or anything. It is more admiration he feels for the creature, than fear. A kind of healthy respect.
Something chances, he shifts his balance. Too late! He has been bitten. Another wolf has gotten hold of his leg. This one is large, silver-grey and scarred. Pain explodes in his head as it ran like molten lava through his body.
He lets go of the bow and arrow as he hears a scream in the distance; not realising it is his own terrible scream echoing in his ears. He collapses in the clearing. Fading into unconsciousness. The wolves disappear into the undergrowth. They are blissfully unaware of the significant role they played in history.
It is truly a momentous occasion. The hunter's body convulses, and then settles. His body has been irrevocably altered. For now, in the clearing lies William Corvinus, the future great Lycan Elder.