The Skunk Wars (round one)

Valentine ached something fierce. He was headed back to the tractor after a long day abroad and could think of little else besides stoking the fire and warming up beside it. Winter was a frigid, unforgiving bitch to an old wolf like him. He couldn’t wait for spring.

The fire had burned low while he was gone so he slipped by it and began to shimmy down into his den where dry kindling was stored. In a flash he was back outside trailing expletives. “You little bastard! OUT! NOW!” he roared.

”Mm, I’d rather not,” purred a catty little voice. ”It’s so cozy down here. I think I’ll stay until spring.”

”The fuck you will!” he roared into the darkness. It was the skunk his rotten grandchildren had sicced on him not that long ago. Valentine had thought he’d gotten rid of the little beast but apparently not. His tone sour, he offered, ”I’ll double whatever they gave you this time.”

”Nobody gave me anything. What I want is this den,” she chirped back.

Valentine knew from the last encounter that a direct assault wouldn’t work. She would be waiting for him and he would be sprayed and blinded before he got more than a paw inside. So he was going to have to be sneaky. ”Fine,” he said sullenly. ”But I’m taking the fire.”

”Byeee, big fella! It’s been fun!”

He stomped away loudly and then quietly circled around the tractor and sneaked up behind it. There was one little spot beneath the big wheels that he was constantly having to patch. With any luck he could simply scoop the dirt away and reach in and grab the little beastie by the head. If he was fast surely it wouldn’t have time to spray before he killed it.

Valentine crouched down behind the tractor and began to slowly and carefully peel back the layers of dirt and rock that made up the top of the back wall of his den. It was slow going but he was so focused on being silent that the minutes disappeared without him noticing.

Finally he managed to break though. The hole was small, no bigger than the width of his foreleg, but it was progress. Valentine presses the side of his face against the dirt and peered inside.

It took him all of a second to realize he was eyeball to sphincter with the bum of a skunk.

With an uncharacteristic alarmed yelp he backpedaled and sidestepped to get out the line of fire. In an instant he was incensed both by the skunk and his reaction, so he darted towards the entrance and roared down it, ”I will burn this thing to the ground before I let you have it! Do you hear me, vermin?”

And thus began their beautiful, hate filled relationship.