They walked slowly through the wind and snow. He and she, they were two wolves. He was big and sturdy, with knife-striped ears, a gleaming gaze and hard, strong teeth. She was completely different, she was small, with a dark nose and eyes that were always moist, with a small southern breeze like hazy mist, suspended like above a pool of autumn water. His style is the look of the mountain, her style is the look of the water.
Just now, because she deliberately messed up, a rabbit ran away in front of their eyes.
He had conquered her when she was a teenager. Then they stayed together and lived together for nine whole years. During this time, she had dragged him down from the bloody battlefield again and again, dragged him, bruised and unconscious, into a cave in the middle of nowhere, licked his wounds with her tongue, licked the blood from his wounds to clean up the grit of the shotgun or the bone scraps of the fierce enemy, and then, rushing down the high slope like the wind, went after the roe deer, and anointed his wounds with roach cord and badger oil. After all this, she lay down by his side, all day and all night, without moving.
But, more often than not, it was he who looked after her. They have to go endlessly chase their food, have to fight with their companions to fight for territory, have to watch out for fierce opponents stronger than themselves, and have to be on the alert for hostility from humans. This is really hard.
Sometimes he was simply exhausted. He was always bruised and tired of fighting. She, on the other hand, is like a restless bag of trouble, always in addition to the natural enemy constantly add more trouble to him. She is too curious and has an overly happy nature. She even to create those thrilling and dangerous trouble for fun.
He had to constantly struggle with the environment and powerful adversaries. He was so angry that he went deeper and deeper into desperate situations to save her from the doom. He was like a mighty god of war at that time, and no opponent could stifle him. His success and glory were almost entirely created by her.
Without her caprice, he would have been an ordinary wolf.
It was getting dark, and he decided to go as quickly as possible to get food for her and for himself.
It was very dark and windy, and they were walking in this condition toward the village where the lights were faintly discernible, so naturally they could not find the well.
The well is a dry well, the village people do not want to let the snow fill the well, will be a yellow brown old snow quilt draped over the mouth of the well, carelessly made a trap.
He was walking in front, she was following behind, separated by a dozen steps. He did not have the slightest premonition, and by the time he noticed the suspicious false pine beneath his feet, it was too late.
She was then looking at a whirlwind in the snow, a whirlwind with a broken pine branch, spinning under the playful wind like a dancer who could not stop. A muffled boom came from somewhere under her feet. Only then did she realize he had disappeared from her sight. She ran to the well. For a moment he was fainting. But he soon woke up and immediately figured out his situation. He found that the situation was not as bad as he thought. He had simply fallen into a dry well, which he thought was nothing. He had been caught in a live snare placed by a hunter, and once he had been caught in two pieces of ice going downstream, and it had taken him two days to free himself from the ice. Another time he had a narrow encounter with a wounded wild boar, and his whole body was red with blood. He passed through an unknown number of bad luck, and he finally got through it all.
The well is the kind of pot-bellied bottle, the lower smoothly on the beam, the well wall is cut very smooth, there is no place to climb.
He asked her to stand away from some, so that he did not leap out of the well when hit her. She did, standing a few feet away from the mouth of the well. Except when she was naughty, she always listened to him. She heard a deep breath of confidence from the bottom of the well, then heard two sharp scraping sounds from near and far, followed by the sound of something falling heavily.
He was lying at the bottom of the well, his head covered with snow and mud. He just leaped, jumped out of the two feet high, this height is really some remarkable, but from the mouth of the well is still a big cut it. His two sharp claws will be the well wall of the frozen soil scratch out two deep marks, the two scratch marks are shocking to the eye, but also a deep regret.
She climbed on the edge of the well, sobbing at first, then couldn't stop and let out her voice. She said, "Oh, it's my fault, I shouldn't have let the rabbit go. He was at the bottom of the well and laughed instead. He was amused by her tears. In that time before dawn, she left the well pad and went out into the forest to look for food. She walked a long way and finally caught a black, thin-billed grouse that was frozen a little silly under a thin, long oak tree.
He chewed the tasty grouse with bones and meat, and filled his stomach. He felt much better.
He could continue to try his escape. This time she did not leave the well platform, she no longer cared about him leaping on the well platform when he hit her. She leaned over the well platform and kept cheering him on, calling to him, encouraging him, urging him to jump up again and again. Across the abominable distance in the well, her posture with her claws outstretched against the backdrop of the brightening sky was always so determined that it kept him at the bottom of the well in tears, with a strong desire to leap up high and embrace her. However, all his efforts failed.
At dawn she left the well platform, and after dark she came back. She came to the well with great difficulty, and she brought a badger for him. He was at the bottom of the well and filled all of that badger into his stomach without any left. Then began his new attempt.
She sometimes left the well platform, and then she came back to the well platform. She always felt that during the time she was away, miracles were more likely to happen.
She watched there, hoping that when she returned to the well pad, he would be standing there sweating profusely, breathing heavily and smiling at her foolishly. But no. At dawn, she left the well once again and disappeared into the forest.
When it was dark, she returned to the well pad, exhausted. All day long, she had caught only one squirrel that hadn't had time to grow up. She herself was hungry, of course. But she saw that he was still there, busy and sweating profusely. He was picking the frozen soil off the well walls, claw by claw, gathering them up, putting them under his feet and stamping them down. He must have been doing it for a long time. His ten claws were completely split open, dripping blood, which made the frozen soil, which he had picked off claw by claw, look soggy. She was staggered at first, but she soon realized that he was trying to pad the bottom of the well and shorten the distance to the mouth. He was creating the passage to save his life.
She told him to take a break while she continued to work. She was near the well canal, plowing through the snow and ice, to loosen the frozen soil under the snow and ice, and then push the loosened frozen soil down the well. She did so for a while, and then he came to collect the frozen soil that had been plowed down to the well, and re-stepped it.
They did this for a while, and he noticed that she was slowing down on the well pad. He was getting a little impatient. He didn't know that she was hungry and tired and that she had injuries. At dawn, they stopped. They were satisfied with their work. If things had gone on like this, they would have finally escaped the damned dry well at the next sunrise and both ran toward the forest. But two teenagers from the village found them.
The two teenagers went to the well platform and looked down the well, and they found him lying at the bottom of the well with a longing heart. Then they ran back to the village to get their shotguns and fired a shot at him in the well.
The bullet went in through his backbone and out through his left rib. The blood ran out like a dark fountain, and he fell at once and could not get up.
She heard his howl, and she immediately became restless. She raised her head and howled towards the well platform. Her howl was asking what was wrong. He did not answer her positively, he told her to leave it alone. He told her to get away, to leave the well pad, to leave him, to go deeper into the forest. She didn't, she knew something had happened to him. She could smell the blood in his voice. She insisted that he tell her what was wrong, or she would never leave.
The two teenagers couldn't understand how the two wolves were howling, breathing, singing, singing, singing, singing. But their doubts did not last long, and she appeared. The two teenagers were stunned by her beauty. She was petite, well-built, well-groomed, with a dark nose and eyes that were always moist. A small south wind-like hazy mist pervaded, suspended above a pool of autumn water as if. Her fur is a condensed silvery gray, quiet, unmoving, able to merge with everything and make the merged sublimate into the noble. She stood there, then slowly walked towards them, and then one of them came to his senses. He raised the shotgun in his hand.
The shot was muffled. The bullet dug into the snow, splashing a fine dusting of snow. She disappeared into the forest like a clean breeze. He gave a long growl from the dry well when the gun went off. His howl almost shattered the well platform. Throughout the night, she waited in the nearest forest, constantly giving long growls, and his joy at knowing she was still alive was obvious. He kept warning her to stop trying to get to him, to go back into the depths of the forest. Never to walk out again. She looked up to the sky and her long whistle came out of that forest and went on for a long way.
At dawn, the two teenagers stayed up and dozed off. Meanwhile, she approached the well platform, and she dragged the frozen, hardened yellow sheep to the edge of the well platform. She fell backwards, plowed flying pieces of snow mist, the yellow sheep, pushed hard down the dry well. He lay there, unable to move. The yellow sheep rolled to his side. He yelled and scolded her. He told her to go away and leave him alone, or he would make her look good.
He cocked his head to one side and didn't even look at her, as if he was so angry with her. She climbed on the well platform and whimpered shrilly, telling him to hold on, that she would get him out of this damn dry well as long as he had a breath.
The two teenagers later woke up. She spent the next two days circling them. The two teenagers shot at her a total of seven times, all of which missed her.
During those two days, he kept howling in the well, and he didn't stop for a moment. His throat must have been so torn that his howls were so intermittent that they could not continue as a sound.
But on the morning of the third day, their howling suddenly stopped. The two teenagers, looking down the well, saw that the wounded male wolf was already dead there. He had crashed to death, his head tilted against the wall of the well, his skull crushed and his brains splattered everywhere. The yellow sheep, which had frozen hard, was lying intact beside him.
The two wolves, they had been trying to get back into the forest. They almost succeeded.
They then got caught in a disaster. First he, then she, in fact they had been together. Now one of them is dead. When he dies, the other one won't be there anymore. Isn't that what he died for?
The two teenagers, went back to the village to get the rope. But they didn't get very far before they stood still. There she stood, all covered in silvery gray fur, which was scarred and covered with blood scabs. She was exhausted, physically and mentally ruined, as her fur was blown by the wind, as if she were the most classical ghost in the forest. She tilted her jaw slightly, as if with a soft sigh, and then she came running towards the well platform this briskly.
The two teenagers almost watched in awe until the last moment, when one of them hastily raised his gun.
When the gun went off, the snow that had stopped for two days and two nights began to fall again.
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