WolfA Story by Prokhor OzorninA-a-u-u-u-u-u! Heart-breaking howl of wolves, supported by two dozens of throats, escaped into the night sky, lit with a pale moon. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Everything was mixed in this howl - pain from the losses of his companions, hatred to ruthlessly killing them hunters, a hunger that was beating with a faint echo in their stomachs... A-a-u-u-u-u-u! There she is, the moon. A yellow circle in blackness. Attracting and frightening. Lighting the road in darkness for them. Light of night. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! He is now a part of the pack. Strong pack. They accepted him. Though he was different once. Doesn’t matter when. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Tomorrow new hunting awaits. Such is the order of their leader. Attack of dwellings of the big beings, walking on two paws with their sticks, shooting with beams of light, which have turned many of his comrades into piles of ashes. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Fight for their pets, whom they were eating. Not to starve to death. Fight to the death. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Many of those, whom he knew during these three years, was already taken away by the great queen of the night, who has given them the moonlight. Death from hands of orthograde hunters. Death of the brave. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! The smell of their pets, the sound of the cartilages, torn apart by his canine teeth, blood, streaming from their wounds. Such a sweet meat. Sweet prey. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Hunger. The stomach, clenching from it in pain. Tomorrow this pain will stop. They will attack under the hood of night. Will be sated. Will then hide from hunters. Confuse traces. Tear with claws. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! He remembered that he was different once. Not one of their kind. Didn't remember when. Long ago. Not important anymore. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! He had an owner. House. Big house. The owner died. Someone another lodged in the house. Expelled him away. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! The pain of loss. He strayed on roads. On fields. Through woods. Had no more powers. Wanted to die. Hunger led him into depths. There he found the Pack. Found his brothers. Became one of them. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! He sings his praising song to the great moon and twilight of the night. They are their cover. They are their support. Will not survive without them. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Yellow eyes of the moon. Almost like their own. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! They bit hunters to death too. Those that have strayed away from their pack. Their meat was rigid. Cannot argue with hunger, though. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! When he had lived in the big house with his owner, colorful pictures came to him during nights. Cannot recall their name any longer. Too old reminiscence. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Images were strange. He had two legs instead of four in them. He was orthograde. Almost like hunters. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! It is dreadful to remember. Images. In them, he was a... person? Strange word, almost forgotten, almost lost. Striking with intolerable pain. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! The person in his night pictures was pitiful and mean. Worse than a dog. Wolf in sheep's clothing. Wolf... a strange word. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! The person deceived and betrayed others. Did foul things. Bad person. Bad! A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Bad! The person was told, that he is worse than a dog. The person only laughed, showing his golden canines with a smoking stick inside. Lots of evil came from that person. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Then the person became an inveterate drunkard. Was left alone. No longer necessary. Both he, and to him. Worse than a dog. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Strange pictures, tormenting his memory. Yet there was something in them. Like he was once another. Not even when he lived with the owner. Earlier, much earlier. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Pictures come in flashes. Bright, in his eyes. Brighter than the moon. It is terrible to recall. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! The person waited. Not here. In another place. Totally different. Waited for so long. As well as all people. But this one wasn’t a man. Worse than a dog. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! The person was estimated. His way was. Unworthy. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Unworthy! Pain, pain, pain! It is terrible to remember! A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Something happened to the person. He changed. Four legs instead of two. Not worse than a dog. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! The person lost his memory. Have forgotten! No more former consciousness. Didn’t deserve. Was erased. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Lead me on, great moon! Accept us in your embraces, queen night! Satisfy our hunger, soothe our pain! Let us stick our canines into hated hunters, let us get drunk from the blood of their pets! A-a-u-u-u-u-u! There is no person any longer. Not a person, but a dog. Not a dog, but a wolf. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Bad pain. Bad memory. Bad person. Good wolf. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! People, where are you? How many of you are there? Not enough people. Too many wolves. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Tomorrow they will feast on human blood, satisfy their hunger. It will be nourishing. Pictures will go away. Bad pictures. A-a-u-u-u-u-u! Then they will be followed by hunters. Terrible hunters with killing beam sticks. And they will be left with only one option. To tear them apart! 03.09.2017 © 2018 Prokhor Ozornin |
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Added on September 3, 2017 Last Updated on November 5, 2018 AuthorProkhor OzorninRussiaAboutMatters not whether I tell or write – my thoughts will pursue me.If these thoughts are useful to someone – they will become my wings. more..Writing
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