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Paws crashed against the icy lake surface. Bright blue eyes trailed smoke as their owner tore across the frozen land. Black wings spread wide, their feathered sheen catching the light of the winter sun, while the rest of the animal’s dark furred body glossed in response to the illumination. The creature’s breath came out in gasps, sending white plumes rushing through the cool air, and a red tongue wet with moisture trailed from the side of its mouth.
Its muscles stiffened, launching it to the side as a bullet ripped by. The winged wolf jumped once, drifting a little, flapping its wings hard, and then its unwilling paws struck the slippery ice once more, scrambling for traction. Another bullet missed its mark. The wolf wailed, sending is harsh cry shredding through the frosty air, and then its wings pumped once more, sending the animal into the clouds like a streak of night.
The hunter came to a stop, reloading quickly, but his target sailed over the treetops and vanished into the greyish cloud. Swearing, he stood for a while, staring where he had seen it disappear, his freezing fists clenched tight in their woolen mitten coats. He turned, wondering to himself why his target had seemed so small, and all at once a savage snarl stopped him in his tracks. A few feet away from him, sitting in the snow beside his dogsled, was a female white winged wolf. She had chewed right through his sled dog harness, and held it between her teeth very carefully. The dogs it was attached to were cringing, nearly buried in the snow, tails between their legs and whimpering like puppies. The larger male winged wolf was sitting by his sled, staring intensely at him with its icy blue gaze. He watched the smoke from its irises rise into the sky for a few minutes, unsure of what to do.
The male wolf stepped towards him, and he raised his weapon. The canine snarled again, causing the hunter to shake even worse than his body’s natural response to the chilling weather. The female remained motionless. The hunter was torn. If the female wolf let go of his sled, the dogs would run, probably chased by the winged wolf pair, and he’d never see them again. He was stuck out here, far from his comfortable cabin, and if the dogs left he’d have no way of getting home. He was surprised that the wolves had such intelligence. How would they have known he was here?
Then it dawned on him. These were no ordinary winged wolves. They were the blood parents of the pup he had been firing at a few moments before. Oh, no. The man fell to his knees, dropping his gun in the snow. He flinched as the alpha male grabbed his weapon in his mouth, and then he flew off, only to return a few moments later. Then the massive wolf stalked around the hunter, and nudged him forward. The hunter rose obediently and walked with hesitant steps towards the female wolf. She sat like an angelic statue, her wings spread slightly and wavering in the wind. The smoke from her eyes was a beautiful light blue. Entranced, the man gazed at them for a few moments.
The male wolf nudged him again, bringing him back to reality. Coming forward like a robot, he stuck his trembling hands out, and the female put the harness straps in his hands. Suddenly they were gone, and the hunter was alone with his dogs on the frozen lake. After a bit of struggle with the harness, the hunter managed to repair it, but it took a while for him to get the dogs to move. Finally they began to run, and his cabin was in sight after a few hours. Surprisingly, his gun was there, on the doorstep, completely unharmed.
But his dog team sensed what he couldn’t, and refused to come near the house. The hunter froze, and looked carefully about. The female winged wolf was there, perched on his roof. The male sat by his front door, and the black pup was flying slow circles around his mother. Throwing all caution aside, the crazed man lunged for his weapon and aimed it at the male winged wolf. They stood there for a long time, staring into each other’s eyes. The female wolf dropped off the roof and landed a few feet away, the pup trailing her faithfully.
Sweat trickled down the hunter’s face, appearing despite the frigid air. The tense moment continued. Then the man began to have doubts. It wasn’t right to shoot the wolf. It wasn’t because the female and pup were there and would attack him if he did, it was because they had spared him as well. They could have killed him back there, or just released the dogs to their deaths in the wilderness, leaving him stranded. They were teaching him a lesson. They just wanted to be left alone. He began to think of how wonderful they had looked when he had first seen them in the summer months. They were so powerful and light. It was amazing.
He lowered his weapon, and the wolves took to the air. The hunter watched them for a long time, until they evaded his sight completely. Then he turned and marched towards his dogs, chaining them up to their proper kennels, and after packing up the sled, he returned to his dwelling. Opening the door and whistling a cheerful tune, he entered within, knowing that he’d never see the winged wolves the same way again.