Here’s a story of a beast beyond recognition.
The green-eyed wolf prodded Graham’s belly with his snout. Graham stepped back, flexing his jaw as if to bite back. He knew that was a mistake. A step back was a step closer to submission. Green Eyes was their pack leader and Graham had stepped out of line. He had said some things he shouldn’t have said. Green Eyes was going to have to teach him a lesson.
The rest of the pack edged closer to him, sniffing the air for signs of weakness. Graham tried not to shiver. He was colder than he had ever been, hiking through piles of heavy snow. All his hair stood on end, from his head to his legs. But that would give away the illusion. Graham was a wolf, and what brave wolf shivered?
The green-eyed wolf prodded again, harder this time, like a child trying to provoke a giant. Graham stood his ground as the pack edged closer in anticipation. The pack always liked watching a good fight. Not just for the blood-sport, though that was part of it. Fights determined hierarchy - promotion through combat. Graham closed his eyes, trying to imagine what victory would look like. And then he saw it.
Graham jumped onto his hind legs and tackled the green-eyed wolf to the ground. Graham kicked him to his back. Then with a leap, he gnawed at the smaller wolf’s neck. Green Eyes squirmed away, his body forming a ball. Twigs and fallen branches crackled underneath as he tried to reorient himself. He was too slow.
Graham leaped again, landing on top of Green Eyes, panting. The pack watched on with eager grins.
Green Eyes paused, recalculating his situation. He edged his snout closer to Graham’s nose, and put three paws on Graham’s chest. They locked eyes. The wolf knew what he was. It was obvious now. So Graham punched Green Eyes in the mouth.