Word Count: chapter: 300||story: 2,700||Chapter Count: 9/26


He slept. He didn't fully mean to, though he knew that he needed to. He meant only to rest a brief time before he hunted for food or tried to escape from here without his own hunter following him.

But he needed to rest first and he set his muzzle on his paws for what he knew would only be a few minutes.

When his eyes opened again, fingers of shadow reached from horizon to horizon and here in his cozy temporary lair, it was as dark as deepest night.

He flexed as he rose, trying to piece together what happened while he slept. The day passed. His enemy didn't find a way to him.

He tilted his head up and sniffed the breeze. There was a hint of something he didn't recognize in the air, but it held nothing of the simian stench of the hunter. If he didn't recognize it, couldn't identify it as safe, he refused to trust it.

Carefully he padded forward, taking each step with far more care than he might normally have. Though he wasn't certain if he had a normal to compare it to. All of his memories began with fleeing the creature and anything else he knew came from instincts and vague hints that he couldn't be certain were true.

He recalled what he'd considered before: an alternate way to leave here and find his pack. He didn't know if he needed it now, not if the hunter had given up and left. But he might take it anyway, just to be sure. He couldn't be too careful.

First, food, he decided. It was time to hunt.

He hoped he remembered how.

To Be Continued

Notes: Wolves eat most meat-based things. And do not patronize grocery stores or have access to fire. Let's hope Billy digests quickly.