Wolfmother

the theory is that animals will slink off to die in a familiar place

He follows the trail for near a day, and only because he feels compelled to. The reason won't hold up so well against Ma's stare, but it's what he comforts himself with as he tracks.

Pa always said that he best stay away from the thing, but he figures it won't do no harm now. He brings the rifle just in case. He doesn't plan on using it.

The tracks run deep into the forest and he follows them even as the sun starts to set. He isn't really worried about getting lost, or spending the night camped out. He isn't even really worried about the blizzard.

The tracks stop at the big oak tree just off the center of the woods. He remembers hearin' once that animals slunk off to die in a place they knew best. He figure whoever said it ain't wrong.

The wolf lifts her head, just a tad, and opens her drowsy eyes. She bares her teeth at him when she catches sight of him, but doesn't have the energy to do much else. She blinks then lowers her head.

He puts Pa's rifle down into the snow across from the oak, watchin' the wolf. She don't move, even with him standin' there, and so he sits down in the snow behind his gun. The wolf does nothing.

Old girl must be really dyin', he thinks, and admits that that seems right, seein' as how the wolf's been causin' bunches of problem since he was about knee-high. Killed Pa's favorite huntin' dog if he remembers correctly.

The wolf looks back up at him, and looks like she's fixin' to growl, expect it comes out more as a whimper, and blood rolls down her old muzzle and then she just gives up and settles her big head on her paws, whimpering every now and again.

Night sets and he stands there in his bulky winter jacket, his butt frozen solid, and his cheeks pink and he thinks, what the hell am I doin' here? But then wolf moves and weakly raises her paw, and he decides to wait just a little more.

For a long time, he just sits there, watching the wolf. After some time, the wolf forgets all about him and looks up into the white sky, her tongue lolling out, her chest heavin'. It don't take much effort to see the losing battle.

After a while, the whimpers die down and then die off and he looks over at the wolf. Pa's gonna whip him something fierce for settin' off without word, but he figures it won't be no worse than any of the other punishments he's gotten.

The wind howls, and the wolf stays silent. He stares at her for a little while longer, than pushes himself up, shaking his legs to get blood back into them.

He picks up his rifle and goes home. Tomorrow, he'll come back and bury the wolf. Maybe.

Author's Note

written as a prompt over at livejournal