
Murky foreboding pond water tastes scummy to tongue of mother wolf.
She takes a few laps of the water anyway. Rubbing her head on her wolf pup affectionately; they were hunters by birth and perpetuated tradition. As a faithful monogamous part of the pack, she admired her lover throughout the day with a calm demeanor.
This mother wolf was nearly eighty pounds of balanced ferociousness and maternal instincts. Only forty-one teeth remained, as one had been lost in an especially rough battle with a bison. Her spine-tingling howl was a reminder that the Alaskan life was not for the overly warmhearted or feeble.
Covered in a royal robe of survival, it suited her best. She wore respect like a crown and that was all she deeply craved!
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.