Moving through the shawdows - crouching in the tall grass,
he moves with graceful speed.
He uses the darkness of the forest to hide his black fur.
His prey won't see him pounce.
As the night creeps into the forest, he arches his back and prepares for the hunt. A group of mice hurry across his path. Unaware of his presence, they try to reach their home before the creatures of the night come out to play. He will dine on mouse flesh tonight. He lunges at the leader and sinks his fangs into its skin. His first instinct is to just cripple the mouse so that, if he's quick, he can catch another one. But as the blood reaches his tongue and fills his mouth, he is engrossed in feeding and forgets about the others. When he finishes his meal, the other mice have scattered. He can no longer smell them; their scent has faded - lost amidst the other scents in the woods. He slinks away amongst the reeds; the woods have many other meals for him to catch.
As he creeps along the ground, he detects a strange scent. A wolf - in this part of the forest? That can't be right! He pauses to sniff the air; the scent is undeniable. A wolf! Nearby - just past the stream. He crouches low to the ground, unsure if the wolf has seen him or detected his scent. Should he remain hidden and hope the wolf won't notice him? Should he run? The wolf is faster - stronger.
"Is there enough distance between us for me to run away - to reach safety?"
He notices a hallow log a few feet away. He decides to slowly inch toward the log. Inside the log, he'll be safe. The wolf is too large to fit, except for its snout and the log is long enough for him to stay out of reach of its sharp teeth. He carefully slinks through the grass hoping not to catch the wolf's attention. Quietly, quietly he edges closer to the log. He is close - safety is near - almost, almost. The wolf turns its head in his direction. It sees the grass move slightly; it sees a dark shape moving slowly through the grass. The scent - a cat! It dashes toward the shape.
He hears the wolf heading this way. he hurries to the log and rushes inside. Running too quickly to stop, the wolf rams into the log. It shoves its snout inside trying to reach him. It hungrily snarls and bares its teeth. Shaking and scared, he cowers in the darkness, How long must he wait? Unable to move. The wolf growls angrily and lunges at the log, thinking the force will break it, but it doesn't. The wolf bites at the wood trying to break off pieces with its teeth. The wood is too thick - the bark too strong; it will not break. The wolf runs at the log one last time, to no avail, then scrampers away; defeated - dejected. He sees the wolf leave, but it is too frightened to come out of the log. Afraid the wolf is hiding in the shawdows, waiting for him. He can't leave the safety of the log, not tonight. He curls into a ball and waits for the sun to rise. Sleep comes quickly in the safe comfort of the log. The hunt is over for tonight.
