Sticks and Mud
The air was heavy with the scent of it. The two hounds stood, backs arched, noses in the wind. "What is it?' wondered Sean. "I don't know," replied Ian, "but it is not good. I think we should just keep moving, and quietly." They padded through the brush as softly as possible, scenting for signs of trouble, listening for sounds that would mean the forest was at peace with itself. They left the water's edge far behind them, traveling deep into the interior of the woods. The canopy was heavily laced above them, with only tiny shafts of light spearing through to break up the darkness and bring growth to the green carpet beneath. Here was a world of lichen, mushroom and heavy earthy scents; finally the sounds of the woods were back. The aching silence was gone and in its place was the steady heartbeat of the natives.
Sean caught the scent of a rabbit nearby. "I'm hungry," he noted.
"Not yet," replied Ian. "I just don't feel quite right yet."
"This place smells fine," said Sean. "The other animals are fine, well, except those that have scented us."
"You do smell pretty loud," cracked Ian.
Sean lifted his large paw to cuff Ian and what ensued was a brief and spirited scuffle. The tension they had been carrying for the last couple of hours seemed to lift as they rolled and played in the soft moss carpet.
"Okay, let's hunt," growled Ian. "Though all we have ever caught is fish. I am not sure you can thump a rabbit on the tail and I can just catch it."
"I am sure we can work out something," replied Sean.
They let instinct take over then, working together to follow scent trails until they reached a burrow. Ian circled, trying to find the rear entrance. "Try howling into the entrance or pushing your paw in. Maybe I can catch one as they come out the rear."
"Why don't you push your paw in?" asked Sean. "I am in no hurry to have mine bitten by some rabid rabbit."
"Just howl then,"
"If I howl, then the whole forest will know we are here," said Sean.
"Do you have a better idea?"
"No."
"Well?"
"Bloody H," and then he let out a long, low ominous sounding howl with his nose pressed up next to the burrow entrance. A rabbit paw shot out and clawed him swift and hard right in the snout. He yipped and backed up. Angry, he grabbed a stick with his teeth and shoved it into the burrow, stirring it about. There was a rustle of sound from within. "Get ready."
Two small rabbits shot from the rear in a quick dash, followed by a larger rabbit. Ian was caught off guard by the speed of the small ones, but managed to get his teeth into the back leg of the last one. "Come help."
Sean raced around in time to see the larger rabbit kick Ian with its free rear leg. It caught him hard and square just under the eye, and blood welled up where the nails had raked his cheek. Sean moved in and clamped down on the rabbit's neck, twisting quickly. The ugly snap surprised him as much as Ian and they both dropped their quarry.
"Your nose is bleeding."
"So is your cheek."
"Not much of a meal for that much effort. I think I prefer fishing."
Just then Sean caught movement from the corner of his eye coming from the rear of the burrow. Another rabbit was slowly making its way out. It was obviously lame. He watched as it labored to make its way out. He considered for a moment letting it go. But Ian reacted first, turning and catching it up by the neck, twisting as he had done and creating that quick and brutal snap.
"Probably stringy with age, but at least enough for both of us now."
Sean looked at his brother for a moment. He wondered if Ian had even considered letting the old rabbit go. Then he let the thought slide. It was time to eat. They picked up their kill and moved to a comfortable site under a large tree. The rabbits took no more than a few minutes to disappear. The fur was a nuisance, though the bones were rather fun to crunch. Hunger satisfied. the hounds sat for a moment, at one with themselves and the woods.
"That is new," said Sean. "I have never scented anything like that before, have you?"
"No, but I know what it means, and I think we should try to avoid it."
"Avoid it? Are you crazy? That she-hound is calling me, and I am going to find her," replied Sean with a relish that made Ian distinctly uneasy.
Sean loped off through the woods at a steady pace. He clearly had the scent though they were not that close. Ian followed, his head filled with heat and feelings of strength, his strides starting to feel more like the pounding of his blood in his veins. He could only imagine what this felt like to Sean. It was a very heady feeling and one that was hard to suppress, that is, if one even wanted to. He wasn't quite sure why he did.
As more of the woods gave way to their pursuit, Ian noticed that Sean did not even turn a head at the easy prey that ran across his path as he tracked his new intent. It was a good thing they had eaten recently or he might have been tempted to hunt rather than keep track of his brother. No, that wasn't really true, he was drawn to this scent himself. What he would do when he got there, well, that was another story. At least he hoped it was a different story. The scent was getting stronger now, wafting over the two hounds in waves, making their nerves stand on end and triggering the release of some sort of hormone that gave them an extra edginess. Sean growled low in his throat and sent Ian a glance that clearly meant, "Stay out of my way." Ian, in turn, found himself unable to control the responding growl that indicated Sean would have to mind his own distance.
They closed in on a small clearing, and there she was. She was beautiful. Tall and graceful with a long lean back and full haunch. She was a brindle-colored wolfhound with wildly swirled hazelnut eyes. The fullness of her heat was on her and there were already two male hounds facing off in the battle to have her. Their senses tuned to the she-hound and the battle raging over her, neither Ian nor Sean paid any notice to the man standing in the copse just a few paces away patiently watching the scene unfold. He, however, had noticed them and was intrigued to see the two males traveling together. He lit a pipe and leaned into a tree, his gun propped beside him. The two wolfhounds bore down on each other, the largest of the two rearing up to wrap his foreleg over the other's neck and bear him down, gripping an ear in his teeth. He pulled savagely at the ear, drawing blood but releasing before any real damage was done. The object was to win the lady, not harm his pack-mate. The smaller hound lunged upward from his lower position, nipping at the chest of the larger hound and thrusting his hind legs trying to throw it off. He caught only the smallest fraction of the larger hound's haunches, a glancing blow. It was enough to get himself clear and upright again. The two hounds circled, the smaller knowing already that he was beaten, yet unwilling to just walk off so soon. He needed to make a good showing here if he was to mate at all this season. The larger hound, as if sensing this, tucked his head giving the smaller an opportunity to charge and grab him by the neck. The younger one seized the opportunity, scoring the coup, just before the larger one managed to somehow flick his neck and kick upward with his front joints at the same time, causing the smaller hound to loosen his jaw grip, expel all his breath, and fall heaving to the ground. The match was over.
The larger hound began to stride over to the panting she-hound. He was taking his time, strutting with pride. Ian tried to reason with Sean, but there was no stopping him. The young grey leapt from the wood and intercepted the larger hound just feet before he reached the female. To say that he had angered the older hound would have been an understatement. The hound was furious and made to attack on the spot. "Is it not custom to give ground to the female?" asked Sean. Being called on courtesy by this new and unknown upstart only made matters worse. The larger hound reeled and moved back to the fighting area. Heaving with anger, he pawed the earth, waiting as Sean took his time to pad over. The human was standing now, watching this new turn of events with evident interest. "Why is the young pup taking his time?" he wondered. "Usually they race right in and get the snot whipped out of them."
By the time Sean was in position, the larger hound was practically frothing at the mouth with anger and frustration at being waylaid on his way to be with the she-hound. No sooner had Sean stepped into the ring than he charged him, his large golden eyes fixed on Sean's in pure malice. As he came within the last foot, he dropped his head to move into biting position, and that is when Sean simply moved a few paces out from his prior position. The larger hound's teeth smacked together painfully as they came down through thin air. He felt the weight of the younger, though not necessarily much smaller, hound fall on his back. It was not a standard move. It felt like he was trapped under a tree. In fact, Sean had thrown what he thought would have been called a "pile-driver" in wrestling terms back home, though he wasn't quite sure he had pulled the elbow part off correctly since he didn't really have elbows any more. Sean felt the reassuring gasp and grunt as the older hound hit the ground and the wind sailed out of him. He moved quickly, getting a nip in on the ear as he had seen in the earlier fight, and then stood back and waited for the larger hound to get to his feet.
Ian stepped closer to the fighting ground. "What is Sean doing?" he wondered. "He could have ended it there." The human pressed closer as well. This was a most unusual fight. Was the new dog being chivalrous? Was that really a wrestling move he'd just witnessed? The larger hound rose, not at all certain about what was happening. He knew he stood a good chance of losing this fight and if he did, then this newcomer would probably take on leadership of the pack, if the human let him stay. He couldn't have that. He didn't really care who led, as long as they cared about the pack. He didn't know this newcomer though and that meant he had to fight to protect the pack and not just his position in it. He did the only thing he could think of, he went for a throat attack. They weren't really allowed in these forms of combat where all you were doing was fighting for dominance but if he had to kill to keep balance, he would. Sean read the change in the wolf hound's stance. He was going to be leaping at him. It did not seem likely that he was going to try and jump over him. From all the fights he had seen on the Nature Channel, that meant a throat attack. He could only think of one thing to do. If he could do it in this body.
The hound began his charge. Moving slowly at first, he waited until he saw the young hound rise to his rear-legs and then he increased his speed to initiate the leap and the throat attack. As soon as the larger hound increased speed, Sean reversed his position, rolling down onto his shoulders and thrusting his rear legs as high as they could go. The larger hound was already in mid-leap when he saw there would be no throat to tear. The area just below his chest and above his stomach caught on the up-lifting back paws of the younger hound as they rose higher into the air and he was thrown full body into the tree behind them. A loud snap was heard as the larger hound's body hit the tree and then silence.
Ian went to Sean. He circled him. There were no marks; he was not injured. For a moment the other hounds watched, wondering if another battle was in the making. But Ian simply walked away. The human took note of this and pondered its significance. Again, he had never seen anything like it. Sean shook himself clear of the dust and debris from the fight and loped over to the she-hound. She was tremoring, so deep was the need that was on her. He could feel it rising in himself. They stared briefly into each other's eyes and then moved into nature's rhythmic dance.
Sean was taken to a place within himself he did not know existed. It was fevered, it was frenetic, it was exalted and it was, in the end, infinitely calm. While he could not say he felt replenished--indeed he felt emptied--he could say he felt serene. Just as he floated through this sensation he heard a sharp, harsh crack explode through the evening. The scent of sulphur flooded his senses. He looked up to see a human pulling a gun barrel up from the ground. There before him lay the remains of the hound he had bested for this moment of bliss.
No comments:
Post a Comment