Wolves walk in pairs

They walked slowly in the wind and snow. He and she, they were two wolves. His stature was large and sturdy, with sharp ears, piercing eyes, and hard and powerful teeth. She was completely different. She was small, with a black nose, and her eyes were always moist, with a mist as hazy as a small south wind, floating above a pool of autumn water. His style is the look of mountains, her style is the look of water.

Just now, because she deliberately made trouble, a rabbit ran away in front of them.

He conquered her when she was a teenager. Then they lived together for nine years. During this period, she dragged him down from the bloody battlefield again and again, dragged him into a deserted cave, bruised and unconscious, licked his wounds with her tongue, licked the blood from his wounds, cleaned the sand bombs of shotguns or the bone scum of ferocious enemies, and then rushed down from the high slopes like the wind to hunt down the deer badger, smeared his wounds with the navel and badger oil. After doing all this, she lay down beside him, motionless all day and night.

But, more often, it was he who looked after her. They had to chase their food endlessly, fight desperately for territory with their companions, be on guard against attacks from fiercer opponents than themselves, and be alert to human hostility at all times. It was really hard, and sometimes he was just exhausted. He was always scarred and tired of fighting. And she, like a restless troublemaker, was always adding more trouble to him than the natural enemy. She was too curious and had an overly happy nature. She even took pleasure in making those thrilling and dangerous rings. He had to constantly fight the environment and formidable adversaries. He was furious, and he went deep into desperation again and again to save her from doom. He was like a majestic god of war at that time, and no opponent could restrain him.

His success and honor are almost all created by her. Without her willfulness, he would only be an ordinary wolf.

It was getting dark, and he decided to get food for her and himself as soon as possible.

It was dark and snowy, and they walked towards the dimly lit village in this condition, so naturally they could not find the well.

The well was a dry well, and the people in the village did not want the snow to fill the well, so they draped an old yellow-brown snow over the mouth of the well and inadvertently made a trap.

He walked in front, she followed, more than a dozen steps apart. He had no premonition at all, and when he noticed the suspicious looseness under his feet, it was too late.

She was looking at a whirlwind in the snow, and there was a broken pine branch in the whirlwind, spinning like an unstoppable dancer under the wind. A muffled bang came from somewhere under her feet. Only then did she realize that he had disappeared from her sight. She ran to the well. He fainted for a moment. But he woke up quickly, and immediately realized his situation. He found that it wasn't as bad as he thought. He just fell into a dry well, he thought it was nothing. He had been trapped in a looper set by a hunter, and once he was caught between two ice mounds running down the river, and it took him two full days to get out of the ice mounds. Another time he met a wounded wild boar on a narrow road. That time his whole body was stained red with blood. I don't know how much bad luck he has passed, and finally he came through.

The well is like a big-bellied bottle, the bottom is smooth and the top is bundled, the wall of the well is very smooth, and there is no place for climbing.

He asked her to stand away, lest he hit her when he jumped out of the well. She did, standing a few feet away from the well. She always listened to him except when she was naughty. She heard his confident deep breath from the bottom of the well, then two sharp scratches from near and far, followed by the sound of something falling heavily.

He was lying at the bottom of the well, his head covered in snow and dirt. He jumped two feet high just now. This height is really amazing, but he is still a long way from the wellhead. His two claws scratched the frozen soil on the well wall with two deep marks. The two scratches were shocking and a deep regret at the same time.

She crawled on the well smoke, sobbing first, then she couldn't stop, and let out a loud voice. Woohoo, it's all my fault, she said, I shouldn't have let the rabbit go. He was at the bottom of the well, laughing instead. He was amused by her tears. In the time before dawn, she left the well and went into the forest to find food. She walked a long way, and finally caught a frozen, somewhat silly black grouse under a thin, long oak tree.

He chewed the meaty grouse, all the bones and no meat left, and stuffed it into his stomach. He felt better. He could continue to try his escape.

This time she didn't leave the well platform, and she no longer cared about him hitting her when he jumped on the well platform. She lay on the well platform, constantly encouraging him, calling him, encouraging him, urging him to jump again and again. Across the hateful distance in the well, the gesture of her outstretched claws was always so firm against the background of the gradually brightened sky, which made him at the bottom of the well burst into tears all the time, and he had a strong desire to jump up high and hug her hard.

However, all his efforts failed.

She left the well at dawn, and she came back after dark. She came to the well with difficulty, and she brought him a badger. He was at the bottom of the well and stuffed all that was left of the badger into his stomach. Then, he started his new attempt.

She sometimes leaves the well, and then she turns back to the well. She always felt that miracles were more likely to happen while she was away.

She looked around, looking forward to when he returned to the well platform, and he was already standing there sweating profusely, panting and smiling stupidly at her. But no. At dawn, she left the well platform again and disappeared into the forest.

When it was dark, she returned to the well platform exhausted. For a whole day, she only caught a squirrel that had not had time to grow up. Of course she was hungry. But she saw that he was still busy there, sweating profusely. He was pulling the frozen soil off the well wall, claw by claw, collecting them, padding them under his feet, and stepping on them. He must have been dry for a long time. His ten claws were completely split open, and blood was constantly dripping, which made the frozen soil that he had pulled down with claw by claw look wet. She was stunned at first, but she soon realized that he was trying to raise the bottom of the well and shorten the distance to the wellhead. He is creating a passage to save his own life.

She let him rest first, and she came and worked. She was near the well, digging through the ice and snow, loosening the permafrost under the ice and snow, and pushing the loosened permafrost down the well. She dug for a while, and then it was his turn to collect the permafrost that had been dug down the well, pad it, and step on it again.

They worked like this for a while, and he noticed that her speed on the well platform had slowed down. He was a little impatient. He didn't know she was hungry, tired, and hurt. At dawn, they stopped. They were happy with their work. If things went on like this, they would finally escape the nasty dry well the next time the sun rose, and both ran into the forest.

But two teenagers in the village found them.

The two teenagers walked to the well platform and looked down, and they found him lying at the bottom of the well longing. Then they ran back to the village to get a shotgun and fired a shot at him in the well.

The bullet went in through his back and out of his left rib. The snow rushed out like a dark spring, and he fell and could never get up again.

The shooting teenager was stopped by his companion as he pushed the second bullet. The blocking teenager pointed to his companion to show several strings of footprints in the snow, like some gray and exquisite plum blossoms, extending from the well platform to the distant forest.

She came back here after the sun went down. She brought back a yellow sheep. But she didn't go into the well. She smelled people and gunpowder in the faint smell of oak seeds and fragrant pine branches. Then she heard his howl in the clear night sky.

His howl was that kind of alarm, he was warning her not to go near the well. He was bleeding too much to ask her to go back to the forest, to leave him far away. His spine was broken and he could not stand up. But he stubbornly grabbed his head from the pool of blood and howled for a long time towards the big sky above him.

She heard his howl, and she immediately became uneasy. She raised her head and howled towards the well. Her howl was asking what was wrong. He didn't answer her directly, he told her to leave. He told her to leave quickly, leave the well, leave him, and go deep into the forest. She No, she knew something was wrong with him. She smelled blood in his voice. She insisted that he tell her what happened, or she would never leave.

The two teenagers couldn't figure it out. The two wolves howled, breathed Pirin, sang and sang, and there were only voices. How could they not see a shadow? But their doubts didn't last long, and she appeared.

The two teenagers were stunned by her beauty. She was petite, shapely, well-mannered, with a dark nose and always moist eyes. There was a mist as hazy as a small southerly wind, suspended over a pool of autumn water. Her fur was a condensed silver-gray, quiet, calm, that fuses with everything and elevates the fused to nobility. She stood there, then slowly walked towards them, and then one of them woke up. He raised the shotgun in his hand.

The sound of the gunshots was muffled. The bullet burrowed into the snow, splashing a fine powder. She disappeared into the forest like a clean wind. When the gun rang out, he let out a long howl in the dry well. His howl almost shook the well platform. All night she waited in the nearest forest, howling long and long, and he knew she was alive, and his joy was palpable. He kept warning her not to try to approach him, to go back to the depths of the forest. Never come out again.

She roared up to the sky, and her roar came out of the forest, and it has been far away.

At dawn, the two teenagers couldn't take it anymore and took a nap. At the same time, she approached the well platform, and she dragged the frozen, hard yellow sheep to the edge of the well platform. She fell upside down, planing away patches of snow and fog, and pushed the yellow sheep down the dry well hard. He lay there, unable to move. The yellow sheep rolled to his side. He yelled at her loudly. He told her to get out of the way, don't bother him, or he would make her look good.

He tilted his head to one side, not looking at her, as if he was so angry with her. She climbed on the well platform, whimpering sharply, telling him to hold on, and as long as he had one breath, she would rescue him from the damn dry well.

The two teenagers woke up later. For the next two days, she has been dealing with them. The two teenagers shot her a total of seven times, but failed to hit her.

During those two days he howled in the well, and he never stopped for a moment. His throat must have been torn so that his howl was intermittent that it could not continue.

But on the morning of the third day, their howls suddenly stopped. Two teenagers, looking down the well, the wounded male wolf was dead there. He was killed, his head tilted on the well wall, his head shattered, and his brains splattered. The frozen yellow sheep lay intact beside him.

Those two wolves, they've been trying to get back into the forest. They almost succeeded.

Then they got into a disaster. First he, then she, in fact they have always been together. Now one of them is dead. He's dead, the other won't be around, isn't that why he died?

The two teenagers went back to the village to get the rope. But they stopped before they could go far. She stood there, covered in silver-gray fur, scarred and covered with snow scabs. She looked exhausted and devastated, because the fur was blown by the wind, like the most classical ghost in the forest. She raised her jaw slightly, as if sighing softly, and then she ran briskly towards the well.

The two teenagers were almost stunned, and it wasn't until the last moment that one of them hurriedly raised his gun.

When the gunshots rang out, the snow that had been suspended for two days and two nights began to fall again.