~ Prologue ~
A frosty howl shattered the silence. The seldom-heard call was answered in the distance as another took up the song. The cloud-shrouded night was shelter to the few remaining red wolves, but it was not their paws marring the dusting of snow. Not even the wolves would dare challenge the creatures running through the trees. Larger, infinitely stronger, they were the true predators.
The moon broke through the clouds for a brief moment, its light gilding gray fur silver and making foggy breaths odd lanterns. Darkness overtook them, but the thunder of their passing was felt by the shivering pines and oaks. They had yet to catch scent of their prey, driving them to search wider into more dangerous areas.
The main road to Cades Cove, a popular destination in the Great Smokey Mountains, was closed at night, granting them the safety that no stray headlights would find evidence of their passing. The winds would soon stir the snow enough to hide their prints. The park rangers would recognize the difference immediately if not for the wind. Red wolves did not leave prints the size of a man's palm.
Teeth flashed unseen as they ran, driven by hunger and the thrill of the chase. Every one of them ran hard and leapt over any obstacle. Frozen streams weren't even noticed. Logs posed no challenge. They just ran.
The moon had stirred them, full despite its veil of clouds. Deer were their prey, and they were found in abundance in Cades Cove. Passing tourists would often defy Rangers and feed them, teaching the deer humans were safe. Often, even fawns would walk straight up to cars, unafraid of the loud engines or louder people. There wereno fawns in this season, but the does and bucks stuck around. People loved Cades Cove in the winter but only with inches of snow blanketing everything. Being a lean season, the deer gathered where the people went, hoping for a few defiant humans to feed them a Cheetoh or Ritz. Even winter wasn't difficult for the deer. Their instincts were dulled from birth with their easy lives. It made them easy prey for the predators on the move.
The wind stirred with their passing, and each footfall blew up a cloud of snow in its wake. The snow dampened sound, muffled it. Hunting in the snow was easy. Even the crunch of every step traveled no farther than the next tree. Fur of gray, silver, black, and brown wove through the trunks of trees, leaping over any dried and barren bushes blocking their paths. Each breath was short, taking in scent while ears laid flat against the cold. Nothing could stop the creatures from running. Nothing would dare.
One howled for the sheer joy of freedom. Another answered with a yip, finally catching the scent of prey. The hunt was on.
Deer broke cover, bolting in their long-legged leaps. They ran for clearings, trying to use their speed to their advantage. But they were unused to the predators that chased. The deeper snow of the clearing slowed them down and bound their legs. The muscular bodies of the hunters plowed through the drifts, their greater mass causing them to sink deeper but that same bulk giving them the strength to break through each time, gaining on the doomed yet fleeing deer.
A snarl and a shriek signaled the first success, soon followed by another. The catch would be plenty this night, and well deserved. These were lean times for deer, but the predators would feast.
Some miles away from the hunters, a pair of headlights buried themselves into a snowbank. Upside down and out of sight from the road, the car was a death trap. Pinned between two guardian trees, it hovered on the brink of tumbling again, end over end down the ravine. The road to Cades Cove was steep at times, often without guardrails. Even Rangers had difficulty on the thin layers of ice formed of snow melted by the exhausts of the hundred-car caravans bent on seeing the old homestead.
Dangling from a seatbelt and pinned by the steering wheel, the driver was dying. The passenger was already dead, a tree branch breaking through the windshield and piercing the body and seat. The headline would probably read "Ice Danger: Rangers Found Dead in Cades Cove Accident."
But that headline would never reach the papers.
Two pairs of yellow eyes gleamed in the dim light reflected from the headlights. Their dark silhouettes bristled with excitement, and their breaths heated the air. On padded feet they prowled around the vehicle, scenting the air, stirred by the fresh blood. Ears pricked forward as the driver groaned before falling again into unconsciousness. A radio buzzed.
"Rivers, report."
Claws clicked against metal as one hunter peered into the car, nosing the body of the passenger.
"Rivers, where the hell are you?"
A growl. The screech of metal. A cold body soon lay on the ground, the limb that once pierced it made into kindling.
"I swear to god, Rivers, if you're looking at another owl nest…"
A pink tongue licked greedily at the blood staining the passenger seat. But the hunter soon lost interest in the upholstery-tainted meal. Snorting and wiping its nose, it turned and nosed the driver once more, getting no response. The hunter outside whined, on the lookout and getting anxious. They had been gone a while, and the hunt was happening without them. They would miss out on the fresh meat. A growl silenced it.
Teeth made quick work of the seatbelt, but the steering wheel still held firm. Careful nudging and pulling of clothing removed the driver, though the hunter had to move quickly to keep the driver from hitting the roof of the car. A groan was the only response to the sudden change in position. Teeth latched into shirt collar, the hunter dragged the driver from the car, yellow eyes thirsty and instincts demanding blood.
"Rivers, is Burke with you?"
Snow muffled twin growls and a very human mumble.
"Rivers stay put. I'm sending help."
The headline would never be published. In its place, the words would read, "Ice and Wolves: USFS Truck Crashed in Park, 1 Ranger Dead, 1 Missing."
