In the fading twilight, the clouds began to part, marking the end of a terrible storm and the beginning of a brand-new day. The sun peered through the forest canopy, showing its brilliance upon all the forest inhabitants that were, for the most part, still asleep. This state of peace would obviously not last very long, as hunger would compel it to end…but it was nice.

The quiet was finally broken by the rumbling sound of hunger. The unfortunate creature the sound originated from was now awake and quite uncomfortable. Rising from the mud that filled his fox-hole the little kit, with a glare in his eyes and a pain in his back, stretched his sore body to prepare for what would most likely be a lousy day. Before he left to start his hunt, he thought for a moment of what he wanted to eat. Hopefully, he thought, he could actually have some meat this time instead of berries. It has been nearly a week since he last had meat of any kind and even then it was a snake, which he didn’t particularly like. If he could choose, he would have a rabbit. Rabbits were his favorite because they were better tasting than snakes and more filling than mice; it was such a shame that they were always so hard to catch. Anyway, he had to resign himself to the fact that this fantasizing wasn’t going to do him any good; he accepted that if he failed to catch anything that he would settle for berries, no matter how bad they tasted.

He shook as much muck off his fur as possible then proceeded to peer outside his hole for any potential danger. The only living thing that he saw was an owl which looked content enough, but still, he crawled out of his hole with great care. Now free of that confined space, he stretched his body and was finally comfortable (Well, besides the fact that he was starving to death, though he was accustomed to that). He made his miserable advance forward, all too ready for failure.

The weary eyes of the owl laid themselves on the young fox. The owl beheld an innocent-looking creature of two feet in length, with rusty red fur, blue eyes and a white-tipped tail. He watched the fox as he left his sight and then, shortly before he turned in, he saw a wolf passing by.

As the fox and all the other creatures of the forest went about their day, they completely missed the wonder of their world. No inhabitant would ever notice the beauty that always surrounded them, mostly because it was nothing new. Rays of light peered through the canopy and reflected off the dew on the beautiful array of flowers. When a gentle breeze passed through the trees, it provided an image worthy to hold onto for a lifetime. Though here, it was very much a common sight to see, its beauty was still profound to those who paid attention.

[In an attempt to not sound too annoying I, the narrator, will hereby give this fox the name of Tom. Don’t read too much into it; I picked this name for no particular reason.]

As our doubting Thomas went about his day, he did what he always did…worry.He constantly darted his eyes from left to right and right to left, often mistaking windblown bushes for the pounce of a natural enemy, ready to eat him alive. Of course, this entirely rational but excessive fear often interfered with his hunting habits, leading to failure on otherwise easy prey. Just the other day he had his sights on a field mouse and failed to pounce because he had to check his back three times, which gave the mouse more than enough opportunity to escape. The only times he was ever really successful were the instances when his undeniable hunger overcame his irrational reason, which was becoming a more frequentoccurrence.

The thought of failure was equally as painful as the prospect of being eaten by, let’s say, a wolf. He was just too used to pushing through, and too familiar with the anguish of hunger—that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, that rumble that produces the thunder in one’s head. It was a sensation he desperately wanted to forget. Thoughts of something to eat were cycling through his head again and again for about an hour; they gave him a renewed conviction to catch something.

As Tom was strolling through, being careful of where he was going, he heard something passing through an unseen bush. A rush of excitement filled his mind as he thought of how fortunate he was to have found food in such a short time hunting. His ears stood up straight, his nose opened wide, his eyes intensely focused, and his mouth developed an eager smile. Then he caught a glimpse of it in the distance. Ignoring his cautious nature due to lack of nourishment, he ran and then pounced. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a hallucination, and he ran head-first into a tree.

[Ouch.]

As the ringing subsided, Tom placed his right paw on the top of his aching head, which was pulsing and throbbing and—really, it was almost unbearable. The crash had left a nasty bump on the top of his head that was concealed by his fur. He tried to shake the soreness off and stand, but he was still unbalanced and fell right back down. He struggled again to stand and barely succeeded: He staggered as he walked away from the tree. Sadly, this was not the first time that this had happened.

When he was finally able to limit the stumbles to less than three a minute, he came to the reasonable conclusion that he should go for something easier. It simply didn’t make any logical sense to try to hunt when one did not have all his senses straight; the great benefit of being an omnivore was that he had that option. He knew that there were berries about ten minutes from where he was walking. So he whipped his tail in frustration and started his short trek there.

[Personally, I like berries, but I’m the narrator, so it doesn’t matter what I like.]

It had been a peaceful enough walk, and he took pleasure in his surroundings, though the thought of possible danger was always there. He saw a bluejay on an oak tree, just sitting there turning its head rapidly. He thought it looked weird. There was also a squirrel climbing up a tree, very nervous from the presence of a fox. Finally, he saw two chipmunks jumping from tree to tree toward the berry bush.

Any one of those creatures would have been far nicer to eat, but they were well beyond his reach. Even the chipmunks, which were going to land, were well ahead of him; they were going to have their fill and make it back up a tree before Tom could even get there.

When he finally got there, he proceeded to sniff them to be sure that none of them would make him sick. He detested the smell of all of them, even the few that he recognized as healthy to eat.

[This day was like so many that came before it, though there was still more to come, and perhaps this might not be such a normal day after all.]

Time is a true joke, for hours are divided by seconds of perception, in which the day was turned to night. Once again on the hunt, and this time far more alert than he was before, Tom was determined to have hisfill. His mind produced all the possibilities which were before him, but this time it was a certain drive that fueled him—a drive to have some meat. He was tired of failure, and he would not have it anymore. He was going to catch something…he just knew it.

The night was flawless in every way; the light of the pale moon gave definition to all he saw; the air was still and clean as never before. Just as the day was beautiful, the night was quiet and perfect, for it was the subtle sounds that yielded results. This was something to be happy about and justified a smile; in the forest, the view was perfect, much unlike the reality behind it.

Tom, with all the senses he possessed, stood at the ready, as opportunistic creatures such as foxes often do. He knew that tonight was something special...an end to his constant failure. Tonight was unlike all previous nights, in which he would return to his hole with nothing to eat. He was actually thinking of how much extra to store.

It was safe to say that he was excited, but when he heard shifting in some nearby bush, Tom did his best to suppress his emotions. Eagerly he lowered his body, concealing himself in darkness and putting all his natural senses to work to determine whether it was prey or predator. Through the shrubbery he saw a brown-furred rabbit emerge, moving about in the small open area in front of him. He wondered whether he should pounce now or wait. He waited so that it could come closer to him to shorten the chase; after all, it was not easy to catch a rabbit. This was when Tom’s luck stopped being so generous; the rabbit somehow knew voracious eyes were watching. It went farther rather than closer; Tom realized that it was now or never. Thus, with great energy and in synchrony with each other, the two started their break-neck chase.

The rhythm of Tom’s heart was a passionately played drum. The chase was so violent that he lost and recovered his balance repeatedly. There were left turns, right turns, sharp turns and U-turns; it was the perfect chase. Absorbed in the race, the two did not take in their environment, and everything was a blur. Tom would have chased that rabbit right through a bear’s underbelly to catch it.

Unbeknownst to either of them was that they were causing quite a racket breaking twigs and shuffling through leaves, and many of the animals of the forest heard them. The owl was rather curious and turned his head. Some bears heard them and didn’t really care all that much. One creature, though, had an idea of what it was and was very interested in it indeed.

The young fox had managed to close the distance between him and his prey; he was getting tired, so he risked a pounce. The rabbit gave a burst of speed and Tom narrowly missed him, though Tom pursued still. Recovering and darting forward, Tom pounced and landed flat behind the rabbit. The rabbit, however, only made it a couple of paces further before it collapsed; Tom stood up, took a few steps and won. They were both gasping for air when Tom placed his right paw on the rabbit’s back to make sure it did not escape.

Tom was getting ready to make the fatal bite when he heard a long…drawn-out…howl that froze and shattered his heart. With a shiver, he turned his head to the right to verify the source and there in the shadows was a figure, stern and absolute, with yellow glowing spheres at its front. As the figure stepped into the light of the moon, Tom saw what it was. Parts registered before the whole: a nicked ear, menacing glowing yellow eyes, and a scar across his nose. This, the fear of Tom’s heart, was a wolf.

Behind the fangs, behind the claws was a creature that was as cruel as it was deadly. Unlike other wolves that are much more efficient, this one loved taking his time torturing his prey before eating it. Seeing how frozen the fox before him was in both fear and exhaustion, he took pleasure in pacing side to side, staring at him, filling him with terror. It was an unusual meeting where both had their eyes fixed on the other’s movements, no matter how subtle they were. The wolf knew how to toy with his prey in one last way; what proceeded was low growling and barking sounds.

[Roughly Translated]

“Well, little cub, you do realize that this is it; this is your end,” he said in a rather cold manner. The wolf’s golden eyes gleamed brightly under the moonlight. “Now, before you die I’ll tell you what you did wrong,” he continued. “You didn’t know where you were going, nor did you care about how much noise you were making. You not only wandered into my territory but also led me straight to you and on top of that, you didn’t run!Not that it would have really mattered; I would have caught you anyway, but at least I would have gotten a chase out of you.” He crouched down ready to charge at him. “I’ll make this quick.” With that he leapt!

The wolf was no more than a foot from Tom when they both heard a loud rippling thunder in the still clear sky. The wolf knew this sound, and he turned around sharply, frantically looking in the direction from which the thunder came! It was strange and frightening to see something that Tom himself feared quiver and cower on the spot.

Now it did seem that the strange thing that was time was doing something quite different. That moment lasted forever; it had shown that there are still new things to learn, fear and pursue in this almost empty world. The sound, the light and the fear were so real that that one moment was seared into Tom’s memory for the rest of his days.

Tom knew for some unthinkable reason that if he did not leave at that moment that he would in fact die. So without hesitation, he turned tail and ran with care not to alarm the wolf. The wolf noticed this and quickly pursued, refusing to lose his catch by such a circumstance.

[Changing to the wolf’s perspective for just a moment]

I lost him! I can't believe I lost him! I changed my mind; he is going to die a slow death! he thought in a rage. Absolutely infuriating was the fact that a human hunter came and made him look weak. Just fearing them had bothered him so much. It seemed unfair to him that they had some strange power in the form of those sticks; without them, he would just tear them up. The only other tool that he knew of was not nearly as effective [he, of course, was referring to guns and knives].

The past came to him in a fury of recollection of the day he first encountered a human being. It was a relatively nice day, and at that point in his life, he still hunted when the sun was still out. He never cared much for the pack, for he was more than a capable hunter on his own, though this did mean that he had to hunt generally smaller animals. It was at the day’s peak that he saw something curious, something that he had never seen before; it was a man.

Baffled by the strange new sight, the wolf was half-tempted to come closer to him. What stopped him was a warning given to him that if he ever saw a two-legged creature that was covered with what was neither fur nor feathers, he was to run and warn the pack. But this creature did not seem threatening. He was sure that he could jump, bite and be done with him as fast as a heartbeat.

The man was tall and muscular with blonde hair, he had something of a hooknose and was as stiff as a tree, all decorated from head to toe. The man apparently had great vision, for after he looked into a weird object (binoculars), he saw some distant thing with interest. He was holding the strange stick and looked over it rather oddly.

Against the better wisdom of the pack and that of his own instincts, the wolf had leapt forward. In what was a matter of seconds the man turned around, pulled out his knife and slashed him across his nose. By the time the wolf landed, he was in agony and left with a scar on his nose that would never heal fully. The wolf hurtled away haphazardly, doing all that he could to regain balance. After regaining his balance some small distance beyond the hunter, it happened: He heard thunder and felt a small piece of his right ear being blown off. That sound he would remember for the rest of his life, the same way Tom would.

[Back to Tom]

Tom had found refuge in some brush not too far away; he had felt a cold sensation travel from the tip of his tail to the back of his head. He was not sure what to do at this point; he was just lucky to still be alive. He knew far too well that the wolf would eventually catch his scent. He also realized that if he did move now, it was very likely that the wolf would see him. He was also haunted by the need to know what it was that made those thunderous sounds on such a clear night. He shook his head and tried to stay focused and think of the best way out of there. Maybe hide between bushes—no, there was simply not enough shrubbery between distances. He could hope that the wolf was too distracted—no, that was just stupid. He could run toward the direction of the thunder; though that would likely work, it felt dangerous. He knew what to do; he flew in the direction of that thunder.

The plan felt too simple to actually work in his favor, but it was the only thing he could think of so that he might possibly survive. He passed the spot where they had been and continued for several yards more, surprised that the wolf was not there to stop him. He made a sharp right turn; he was not actually stupid enough to keep on going. He slowed down for a moment to conserve energy and proceeded to sneak the rest of the way. He couldn’t believe that he eluded the wolf’s detection so easily [sadly, he was right to doubt].

There was no more thunder to be heard in the distance. The winds were still very calm and the moon was very bright. Tom could still hear his heart beating in his own chest and thought of the dangers around him. He was in no mood or physical condition for another hunt; at this point, he just wanted to sleep. His actions slowed even further, as with each step he took, he was closer to rest. It was when his body begged for rest that he heard a twig snapping close by.

He mustered every last bit of energy that he had and gave one last run! The wolf was right behind him, but he couldn’t give up; he was almost there. The wolf constantly snapped at his tail, sounding furious at him. Tom’s heart felt like it was going to pop out of his chest; he was panting heavily with every step. When he saw his hole, he jumped. The wolf overshot then recovered and started to dig. The wolf was getting closer and closer, and then they heard it again, louder than before. The wolf tried to ignore it, but then again the thunder roared; this time they heard something hit a nearby tree. The wolf, unwilling to risk his life, fled.

Tom saw something on two legs walking into the open area with a strange stick by its side. Out of curiosity, Tom stepped out to have a better look; it was initially shocked and then amused. It looked to be female, though he still was not sure of the species; what land animal could keep such an erect position without falling back on all fours? She pulled some meat out of a plastic bag and offered it to Tom; he smelled it suspiciously and then ate it. She laughed a little and then, hearing something, she pulled up her stick and pointed in a certain direction. Tom was not sure what she was doing until she fired her rifle; when he heard its thunder, he retreated back to his hole.

She made strange sounds in a hushed voice. “Yes, I got one!” Then she left. Tom was scared; he hated not understanding what was going on around him. That moment would cycle in his mind, tormenting him until he had no energy left to keep him awake. Yes, the day was normal but not to Tom.