Leadership
The lonely, ostracised pack of wolves wove through the dead pine trees, as
invisible as the new moon in the dead night sky. The pack's alpha male,
its leader, raised his furred head and checked the surrounding area
wearily for signs of danger, his ears perked and tail down in
submission. In the distant, darkening hills, strange noises of trees
being knocked down and uprooted could be heard. The alpha frowned upon
hearing these strange noises as he sensed that something strange was
amidst. He could see in his mind's eye the cantering of deer from the
strange noises, of squirrels jumping from tree to tree away from it,
only to be lifted up along with the trees and carried to some strange
land. Shaking his head, he convinced himself that it could not be true,
and trotted to the front of the pack as he realised that he had fallen
out of line.
The alpha's amber eyes shone in the moonlight as the pure white rays
reflected off them. They were so full of fear, that if one looked at
them closely, he would not consider the alpha as the strong and bold
leader that his fellow packmates saw him as. The small pack of five was
but a minute branch from the main tree of the pack, as their leader had
been exiled from the main pack by a dictatorial, young and witty canid.
"What do we do now, Drona?" asked a young pup as she raised her head to
look at him with eyes full of hope. Drona was the wolves' term for alpha
male, and Draos was their term for alpha female. "I don't know, pup."
The alpha muttered in a low voice, sounding sullen as he felt that he
had failed as a leader. He had failed his pack. As the alpha grew older,
his sphere of influence in the pack had deteriorated. He was no longer
able to control the main pack like he used to, and the youngster had
taken advantage of this fault. In the distance, the noise of crashing of
trees onto the earth seemed to be coming nearer.
The four wolves continued to trudge through the forest, following their
leader blindly, wandering as aimlessly as a motherless fawn. All the
while, a pair of teal-tainted eyes was watching them at close range. A
slight shuffle of leaves was heard. "Caiel, I think there's someone
watching us." the pack's Draos whispered, her eyes scanning the
surrounding area carefully. The leader raised his head to the skies and
caught a scent from the East near to them. It was the young lead wolf.
The Drona growled, peeling his lips back in a snarl to reveal all forty-two
of his sharp ivories to indicate that he knew of the young wolf's
presence. The young wolf stepped out from the bushes right in front of
the alpha, sneering. "Caiel, how dare you remain in my territory. You
are no longer part of the main pack, and you know better than to
continue loitering here. The pack is not yours now, mutt." The youngster
sneered once more and bore his teeth towards the Drona in a challenging
manner. This was his chance to regain his rightful rank. The Drona
tensed, muscles rippling under his derma, ready to regain his position
of main alpha in the forest.
Without any further exchange of words, the battle for dominance began. With
both wolves growling, hackles raised along their backs, they circled
each other first, studying their opponent's every move. The low
vibration of growls filled the air as if they could spread through the
air via diffusion. Without hesitation, the main alpha lunged forwards
towards Caiel, his powerful jaws open. Caiel stepped sideways, causing
the main alpha to miss his target of the jugular vein. Instead, the main
alpha managed to clamp his jaws down onto Caiel's right paw and jerked
back with force continuously.
Pop!
The sickening sound of a bone being displaced was heard and the Drona threw
his head back in agony before spinning around on his three free limbs
such that the main alph let go of his paw because of the overpowering
momentum. He then lunged forwards with full force, snarling, and knocked
his opponent off balance. This was his chance.
With a snarl and a snap of the youngster's jugular vein, the fight was over.
The Drona had regained his position of main alpha. Blood covered the
ground like a la
yer of crimson snow, slowly seeping into the soil. The
air became strangely silent, except for the crashing of trees that
seemed strangely close. The leader's fight was not over.
Man was near. The small pack of four saw animals of all sizes running away
from the scene while they themselves were frozen to the spot. The wolves
smelled the sickening scent of other animals' blood being spewed across
the terrain and saw trees being mercilessly uprooted near to them. Yet,
there was another scent that diffused through the air.
Smoke.
Man had set fire to the forest and it was engulfing everything in sight.
The Drona howled in terror and told the pack the way to safety, but
could not make it himself. In his attempt to shove the pack away from
the orange flames that licked at his coat, he was engulfed by the ember
fangs. A leader would go down with his pack, but a true leader would go
down alone to save his pack.
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