the few and the far between

The scent of another brought Bronze from his daze. It seemed as though a male wolf was lurking nearby. As the brute swung his head from side to side, his eyes scanning in front of him, he was unable to catch sign of any creature. Perhaps he was being followed? A low growl began to bubble in his large chest, spilling effortlessly from behind ivory lips. Behind his frame, his tail flicked threateningly, hackles raising along his neck and back. Further exploration of the surrounding area led to nothing but the lingering scent of a foreign creature. Eyes scanned the area around him frantically, his hazel eyes alight with both anger and irritation. Lips began to curl upwards, revealing stained fangs as the brute snarled, annoyed at the fact that it seemed as though he was being stalked.

Before he saw the creature emerge from behind a nearby boulder, he felt a seething pain in the side of his neck. He grew suddenly faint, as though the wind had been knocked out of him. The stranger's jaws had aimed for his neck, wrapping around his throat with ease. Panic flooded Bronze's body as he threw his weight side to side, attempting to flee from the wolf's grasp. The sound of tearing flesh was audible as he ripped himself from the canine's jaws. He was unsure why the male had targeted him, but his reasoning didn't matter -- his goal, however, as obvious. In the midst of night, his mind clouded with confusion, he could barely see the wolf's face, though he was a bit larger than him and considerably stronger, judging by the force with which he struck him as he went in a second time, knocking him to the ground.

Would this be it? Was this fate, finally coming to take him? Once again the felt adrenaline surge through him as he struggled to all fours, hearing the other wolf snarl and snap at him dangerously. It pulsed through his veins, giving him strength he didn't know he had left in him. Once again he felt fangs tearing at his side, ripping flesh, aiming to not only damage, but certainly to fatally wound. He found his voice again, snarling back at his attacker. He felt blood dripping from his neck and sides, the stinging night air causing him to wince slightly. With all the force he could muster, he found himself colliding with the stranger, able to knock him over with some great effort.

He wasn't sure how long the fight went on, but despite the stranger's obvious strength, Bronze seemed more skilled. As the minutes went on, he felt the strength oozing out from his very core, in the form of dark red blood trickling on the earth below. Finally he felt his tired body collapsing to the ground, expecting this to be the end. His eyes closed, forcing his mind to focus on more pleasant things -- if he was to die, he wanted to at least be at peace.

But no final blow ever came. He felt as though he was drifting to sleep, but shook his muzzle slightly, knowing if he fell unconscious it would surely be the end. With great effort the male pulled himself upright, moaning softly in pain. Perhaps if he could find water, he would wash him wounds and avoid infection entirely. The journey was slow and exhausting, feeling the sting of the air on the open wounds on his neck and sides. How he had escaped death was beyond him, but for some reason unknown to him, he was not ready to die. He dragged himself onward, limping slightly as one of his legs had been injured.

The ordeal seemed like it had taken eternity, but the sun still shone brightly overhead by the time the sound of running water reached his ears. A sigh escaped his parted jowls, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth. He panted heavily as he walked, his chest heaving with labored breaths.

Before him lay a small lake. No familiar scents reached his nose, for he was preoccupied with cleaning his wounds before they dried too thoroughly. Carefully he approached the body of water, finding a shallow area and stepping in gingerly. Bronze winced as the frigid water hit the wounds on his side, though knew this was for the best.