Death of a Hunter
©2003 Elizabeth L. Clark

It was a bad day as far as Mondays go. The weekend had sucked. The hunt had failed to produce the desired results and now she faced going out again.

This one was tricky. He had been around a long time. Use of the very majicks he despised had prolonged his misbegotten life, allowing him to kill more of her kind.

She scouted until night fell then she began stalking him. He had to die. He had robbed her of her mate, killing her while she was in mid-shift and vulnerable.

She caught his scent and silently approached him. He stood over a youngling... blade on the cubs neck. With a howl of rage she burst forth from the bushes and knocked him to his back.

He brought the sword to bear and she felt it slice her shoulder but her anger made the pain seem faint. As the frightened cub squealed and scurried back she latched onto the hunters throat.

His screams died off as she ripped his throat out. She tore open his chest and yanked his still beating heart out. With a howl that echoed eerily she devoured it. The blood squirted as she sank razor sharp teeth into it and let the chunks of flesh slide down into her stomach.

As the moon reached its peak she threw her head back and sang her song of victory. As the rage faded she shifted back and slumped to the blood soaked earth. Her pack arrived, lifting her up and gently carrying her home.

The hunter was left to rot, to fertilize the soil. As she lost the battle to remain conscious she whispered. "I have avenged thee beloved... rest well in Gaia's arms."