I am running deeper into the woods.
Around me, I can hear them panting. Their paws hardly make any sound while the soles of my clumsy feet seem to catch every single dry branch in my way. Even though it is just a silent crackle to us it sounds like a wall of rocks coming down.
My heart races. I have never felt more alive or freer. And even though some of the elders still give me looks they don’t growl at me anymore. Since I have saved that youngster from drowning and then warmed her until we got saved. I nearly drowned myself.
When I tried to get home that day they did not let me. The whole pack moved around me growling when I got up and walked towards the village. I stopped in my tracks and did not move for minutes. I thought they would kill me then. They had never done anything like that before when I came visiting. Just sitting there watching.
The village did not approve. They never approved of anything I did. They said I had brought them upon them. But I always suspected they had done that themselves.
How that day turned my life. Now I had plenty of food and a warm place at night in one of their caves. I also had some sense in my life: Taking care of the youngsters when they were ill, getting food and if necessary to fight. They did not mind me using a spear.
The leader had shown me the ancient place where you still could find old stone spearheads. For a moment she had seemed to be in human shape, then she ran and I did not see her for a week. That was when I started growling, barking and howling.
And now this. The cub killer had taken one of ours. I knew him. He also ravished his own. Too many times had I seen the blankness in his eyes when that evil took him over. The village never acknowledged it. They just pretended he was a shepherd. But what he shepherded they never let their consciousness enter. Too scary. Too evil. They rather blamed it on me.
The pack though does not do pretending or blaming. They see the truth and act upon it. Immediately. I can sense his presence. The smell of fear reeks from his footprints and I can hear his racing breath and his footsteps a thousand times louder than mine. He shouldn’t have come looking for me.
He should have given up. But my matured form he had spotted from afar made the evil boil and explode like a volcano. I smelled him before I could hear or see him. I took the youngster and ran back to the pack calling out. Calling out for their protection.
The other little one had followed us. Great spirit only knows how she could have made it through the watchful eyes of the elders. He got her before the leader stroke. I will never forget the pitiful yelp she uttered when he wrung her neck. The same moment the leader was upon him.
Her powerful set of teeth was on his neck, but he wriggled his way out and ran. It must have been the evil that gave him more strength. But it is natures power that makes the pack stronger. And it is the evil done to me that makes me stronger.
He has stopped now. I am elated. Soon. So soon I will get him. I know the pack will let me. I know the pack senses the power of my passion. The passion for justice. Not revenge. I know the pack will let me because I still have to make my first kill…
2 thoughts on “Story Time ~ A Woman Who Runs With….? (Attention might trigger)”
“A Woman who Runs” is a powerful post. I’m reminded of the brief time when I was 12 and got up early to discover a pack of dogs running together every morning in our fenced in neighborhood. It was the naval base in Philadelphia of all places. Back then, people let their dogs loose to run at night. I ran with them on several mornings. I felt so happy, as if I was with “my kind.” (They do not pretend or blame.) We only lived there for three months, but this was the best thing I remember about that time. May the woman who runs with find justice and peace.
Wow, what a great experience! Thanks for sharing it with us. I leave it to the reader to figure out if the woman found peace and justice but I would hope so too 😊