The cold, crisp morning air of the Front Range made the plumes of steam rising from the nostrils of the huge gray wolf stand out in the sunlight. The first rays of sunlight sparkled in the treetops as he looked out over the rolling hills in front of him.

Dotting this frosted tan landscape were his prey: cows. They were huddled together for warmth in the early morning but were starting to spread out for the day's feeding. He was going to eat well today. The humans had not been out here for several days, and he knew he could make a quick kill and feast before they would return. He had watched their routine for several days as they rode their horses along the boundary of their land.

Last night, they had packed up the horses in a trailer and had driven off, leaving the cattle to roam the hills. He had to be very careful about how many cows he and his pack of cousins took. If they hit one ranch too many times, the humans would hunt them down and kill them. This had happened before, when he had gotten too complacent in his territory and had lorded his power over these smaller cousins of his. Normally, the smaller ones would never try to take a full-size cow, just a few sheep where they could find them. He was tired of rabbits and field mice, the normal fare his cousins ate. Today they would feast on beef.

He was already drooling, thinking about how good it would feel to sink his muzzle into the soft belly of a fat cow and slurp up the blood that would gush out. He shuddered in an almost orgasmic wave and then turned to look at his pack. They were waiting for his signal to begin the chase. None of them even thought about twitching a muscle before he issued a command; they had all learned this from how their former alpha male had gone down in a flurry of blood and gristle.

This new alpha male was beyond anything the small ones had ever experienced. Their racial memory told them that this giant and his brothers had once ruled the mountains and valleys, but not anymore. The one thing that really made the pack uneasy was that the new alpha male hadn't taken any of the females after killing the old alpha. This was what always happens when a new alpha comes into power, but not with this giant. He would just nip and growl at the females that tried to push themselves at him, vying for position in the pack.

The alpha took one last sniff of the morning breeze and then signaled the rest to begin the hunt. They slowly spread out as the alpha began to trot down the hillside. His pace was much slower than the others, giving them time to flank the herd of cattle. They slipped under the barbed wire fence unseen by the cows and began to surround the herd. The alpha stayed low in the tall grass at the fence line, knowing that his color and bulk would give his position away too soon. He wouldn't take chase until the others had spooked the herd and the slowest could be separated out.

The pack of coyotes had finally reached their positions when the beta male made his move. Before the beta male took three steps, its head suddenly exploded in a spray of red and gray, the body whipping around with the force of the explosion. Then the sound rolled over the valley. Gunfire! Three more coyotes went down in a similar fashion, and the unmistakable sounds of rifle shots thundered through again.

The adrenaline surge hit the alpha like a freight train, but his mind fought the urge to bolt. If the bullets hadn't found him yet, then the well-hidden humans couldn't see him. The muscles bunched under his fur in preparation for flight, but he knew that if he ran now, he'd never make the tree line before his own head would explode with a high-power rifle bullet. The rest of the pack had already started back for the tree line, and he could see the puffs of dirt bursting next to some of them as the humans began to fire wildly at the retreating coyotes. Most of the pack didn't make it to the tree line, but a couple did.

After several minutes had passed, the humans began to reveal their hiding places. He watched as several lumps of grass rose up and sprouted legs. Those devious bastards! thought the alpha. Very carefully, he lowered himself even deeper into the brush along the fence line, making sure he didn't bend a single blade of grass to give his position away. The sound of laughter brought his attention back to one of the walking grass heaps that had come within fifty yards of his hiding place.

"We showed those fuckers something, didn't we boys!"

"Yeah, that'll be the last time they try to take one of our cows."

"Did you see that first shot? I love this new rifle!"

The last voice came from his left. He slowly moved his head to get a better look at the one who had shot his second in command. The tall human had pulled his grass cover back and was holding his rifle up for the others to see. The alpha memorized every detail of that face, burning it into his anger-filled mind. He watched them come together and then walk around to gloat over their kills. When they had their backs turned, squatting over the body of his former second, he knew his one chance for escape had presented itself.

Like one of the rifle shots, he was out of the grass and running full out for the tree line. He heard the shouts of surprise and the curses of the humans behind him as they realized their error. The sharp crack of a supersonic bullet whipped by his head as he was approaching the top of the hill. Just as he thought he had escaped their line of sight, the blinding hot pain erupted in his side as the second bullet found its mark. His left lung filled with blood immediately, and he could barely breathe, but the adrenaline and the momentum of his full-out run kept him going forward over the top of the hill.

The blood in his lungs shot out his nostrils as he kept running. Fighting to stay up on his feet, he continued for the trees. One more shot rang out as he passed the first pine tree, and the bark exploded in his face, blinding his right eye. The pain was almost unbearable. He didn't have the breath to waste on a yelp, so he just kept running. He ran for another minute before he was forced to slow his pace. The adrenaline had begun to fade, and the pain in his side increased. Coughing up a large gout of blood from his lung, he stopped. Looking back, he made sure the humans weren't going to try and come after him.

Listening carefully for any sounds of running footsteps or worse, engines starting up, he tried to look back, but the blood in his right eye still hadn't cleared. Satisfied that he had no pursuers, he shifted his direction and headed for the creek that was about a mile away. By the time he reached the creek, his whole body ached with fatigue. His left lung still wouldn't stop oozing blood, and he had to constantly cough it up.

He carefully lowered himself into the frigid water, welcoming the cold shock that suddenly flashed through his body. It helped to clear his mind, snapping him out of his more primal state of pain. Letting the cold water flush out his wounds, he realized that his right eye still hadn't cleared up. He slowly turned his head to look at the wound in his side. He could see the shattered remnants of three ribs poking out of the gaping wound, the flesh and muscle shredded by the impact of a hollow-point rifle bullet. Oh, this is bad, he thought to himself. No wonder he couldn't get his lungs clear of blood.

Slowly lowering his muzzle to the water, he began to drink as much as his empty stomach would hold. He knew he needed to replenish the fluids he was losing from his wounds. After filling his belly with the cold, clear water of the creek, he moved back to the bank and pulled himself out of the water. Looking back at the way he had come, he could see the blood trail he had left. He needed to get moving soon. Those cunning humans would follow this trail and find him. Turning back to the creek, knowing it was going to sap his strength quickly if he stayed in it too long, he began to walk upstream.

He walked about a half mile before getting out of the creek on the opposite side. He figured that the humans wouldn't want to cross this creek with the water temperature as low as it was, plus the distance he had traveled almost guaranteed they wouldn't find his trail. Still leaving a blood trail, he walked into the woods and headed for the Front Range.

He picked a valley between two peaks and used that for his reference point to keep from turning towards his wounded side and walking in circles. He really wanted to stop and rest, but he knew that he had to put as much distance between himself and those guns as possible. He quickly fell into a fugue state and just kept putting one paw in front of the other, staring at the valley.

When he finally made the valley late in the day, he knew that no one had followed him. The sounds of the forest were normal. He looked at the wound in his side and could still see blood oozing out of it, but the flow had slowed to a trickle. He hadn't had to cough as often, so he knew that his insides were starting to heal. His right eye still didn't work, and the pain from it was constant. Not having that eye working really threw his depth perception off; he had walked into several trees on his trek because of it. He knew as the sun went down and the light failed, it would get even worse. Still, he didn't want to stop. The deeper into the forest he got, the safer he would feel.

He had walked for hours and had gone deeper into the forest than he had ever gone before. Finally, exhaustion overwhelmed him, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed onto the soft mossy floor of the forest, his breath ragged and shallow. The adrenaline was long gone, leaving only the pain and fatigue. His vision blurred as darkness crept in from the edges, and he laid his head down on his paws, letting the silence of the forest surround him.

As his body began to shut down, he thought of his pack—what remained of them. They would be scattered now, lost without his guidance. The humans had won this battle, but he knew deep inside that this war was far from over. His kind had survived for centuries, and they would endure once more.

With one final, rasping breath, the giant wolf closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him. Tomorrow, if he survived the night, he would begin again.

 He had walked another five miles when he heard a sound off to his left. Something was out there in the forest, something larger than a rabbit. The wind had died down, so he couldn't smell anything strange. He stopped and listened for another clue as to what was out there. The sound of liquid hitting the pine needles drifted out of a copse of scrub brush. He cocked his head towards the bushes as the sound trailed off. Then more rustling as something large shifted against the branches.

Before he could move to hide, a tall human female stepped out of the brush, still looking down as she snapped the top button on her pants. She looked up as she took another step and they made eye contact. She froze in mid-stride, her hands out in front of her. They were about ten feet apart, staring at each other. The smell of her fear hit his nostrils like a slap in the face. The urge to leap at her throat and tear her apart hit him full force—fear equaled food in his mind. But he was in no shape to leap anywhere right now. He realized that any sudden movement would tear his wound open again, and he wasn't so sure he wouldn't bleed out before any food got to process in his stomach.

Neither of them had made a sound since she had stepped out of the bushes. Taking his silence as a sign that an attack wasn't going to happen, she slowly lowered her hands. He watched her carefully to make sure she wasn't trying to pull a small gun out of her clothing.

"Please don't bite me. I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone," she whispered, barely audible. Her expression shifted from terror to pleading as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

He continued to stare at her with his one good eye, not making a sound or moving a muscle. He knew how dangerous humans could be when panicked. If she had a gun, she could really do him some major damage before he killed her. He didn't need any more damage to his already broken body today.

"If I give you some food, will you go away?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Food? Hell yes! I want some food! He chuffed through his jowls, spraying blood out of his nostrils. Slowly, he moved his head up and down. She jumped at the movement and sound, then looked at him more closely. He watched her, making sure she wasn't trying anything sneaky.

"You want some food?" This time her voice had a bit more authority, almost at a normal level. Again, he chuffed and nodded, hoping she would understand that he had answered her question.

She tilted her head to the side, mimicking the curious posture dogs adopt when they hear something unfamiliar. This struck him as funny, and he started chuffing repeatedly. Then the pain from his wound hit, stopping him abruptly, causing him to cough up more blood.

The woman watched this display with stunned surprise, but her expression changed to concern as she noticed the gaping wound in his side.