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(Page 2 of 2) The Hunted by Brenda Pernack
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It was an unmistakable sign that he needed to make his move soon. If he had stayed, even his sharp eye and razor defense could not compete with what had come to share the hunting ground tonight, so he steadied himself for the dive that would take him headlong into danger, toward this long-awaited meal.
Ready now, with his wings spread wide, he plunged into the adumbration below. He brushed upon the grasses in which she hid, and spotted her as she whipped her body to an upright stance. Racing back toward her hollow, her gait imparted her panic, and she struggled against the grasses that once protected her. He rode the wind above her, striking with splayed claws. His delicate ears assaulted by her surprised squeal, he then banked, shooting upward toward the sky.
Moonlight pierced through his wing to glint upon the eye of the wolf who stood below, yellow orbs floating upon a sea of mangy, dust colored fur. It watched him rise ever higher into the sky, watched his grace upon the pine-scented current, and then slunk back into the dense shrubbery.
High over the treetops, upon the embankment where he had stalked his prey, the owl dug his beak deep into the belly of the lifeless rat. Her blood oozed and dropped onto the earth, rich for the bounty of insects she had risked her life to feast upon. He ripped into the warm, moist flesh, his hunger finally abating, while a shadow fell, unnoticed behind him. Yellow eyes bore into his hunched and mantled form, eyes turned feral by the scent of blood that rode the meandering breeze.
When he threw back his head and spread his wings in victory, the wolf leapt.
Naïve creature.
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