Oral Traditions

My breath was racing as I tore down through the woods I called home. My rifle was slung over my back and I could hear the steps of the pack gaining on me. The cut on my leg was oozing dark blood but I couldn't feel the pain through the rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Just a little farther and I'd reach the cabin. I just didn't know if I could make it. Man is no competition for starving wolves. I didn't have enough bullets to take them all on. Plus, I respected their livelihoods more than that. If I had prey to feed them I would give it up in a heartbeat. But I knew at that moment, I was fixing to be their next meal.

My vision tunneled as the darkness seemed infinite in front of me. Trees and branches passed me by at lightspeed, knicking my skin when I got too close to the trail's edge. The sound of my footsteps was overpowered by the echo of my tired breath beating through my eardrums. It reverberated off the ridges of my brain and I could feel my throat beginning to close.

Out of the corner of my eye, as I was about to give in to nature, I glimpsed a big bird swoop down into the night. I felt the air of its wings as they sent a cool breeze down my overheating body. It landed behind me with a thud on the trail I macheted when I first moved here. I was afraid to look back but the silence perturbed me. Why did the gallop of the wolves come to a halt?

The firelight from the oil lantern posted outside the cabin door was in my line of sight. I could make it. I was going to make it. Through my panting, I hesitated and looked back. There was a great, big barn owl with its wingspan spread out in full. I couldn't believe my eyes.

The wolves were standing silently in the trail. The owl; a barrier between myself and the hunters. It was hard to see but I blinked my eyes about a million times to make sure they weren't playing tricks on me. Every member of the pack had their head bowed down to the ground. Their noses kissed the dirt and there was no hint of snarl or malice painted on any of their faces.

As I collected myself and steadied my breathing, I found myself mesmerized by the sight. I stood paralyzed on the path, watching as the owl's head began to swivel. It made a one-eighty until its enormous black eyes were staring me down. Starlight was reflected in its gaze and its beak began to move.

"You are safe here, human." The owl said to me. "You don't have to worry any longer." Its voice was soft, yet stern, as the sound traveled through the wood echoing off of numerous trees.

"Wh-who are you?" I stammered and walked backward in the direction of my cabin. Too star-struck to take my focus off the scene.

"Go home and rest." The owl demanded as it spun its head back towards the wolves in the trail. "All of you."

With that the large pack took off into the darkness and the sound of their pawprints receded into the night. Without a second look, the owl took off into the treeline and out of my sight. Out of breath, sweaty, and exhausted, I slowly made my way back to the cabin. The light got brighter with every step I took. Off in the distance, I heard the coo's of the being that saved my life and would continue to for as long as I lived.

"Grandpa, why did the owl save you?" Tommy interrupted and I let out a big, belly laugh.

"Well son," I responded, patting him on the top of the head. "When you respect nature, nature respects you."