The snow had only just stopped this evening.
A bright full moon rose in the sky, and the village was white under the moon.
On the cliffs, a pair of deep golden eyes gazed at the foothills, letting out a light of greedy eagerness to kill. The white wolf waited in silence, contemplating ......
Tall shoulder blades like jagged peaks, a blood-red tongue licking teeth that glistened with cold light, cold wind brushing through snow-white fur, ears proudly shrugged, and sharp fingernails under paws that were already pressing in.
If you don't look into those eyes, you'd think it was just a snow-covered, oddly shaped rock.
When the last house in the village snuffed out its candles, the young alpha knew it was time to act. It tilted its head back calmly, taking advantage of the moon to let out a long, chilling whistle of triumph.
It could no longer be seen from the cliffs, and several dark shadows quickly scurried into the village, closing in on the senseless people like a nightmare in the darkness of the night.
Everything was quiet, soundless, seemingly too still, golden eyes watching the route the companions traveled, subdued, elusive.
Suddenly, a baby's cry startled the quiet night sky, a white light shot straight out from the edge of the woods, another few seconds of silence, a light came on in one of the houses, rough male voices and hysterical screams woke up the village, the sound of torches, the sound of iron grew louder and louder, and a few pairs of dark green eyes flickered out and disappeared into the woods, the only thing that was missing was their leader.
Inside the house, golden eyes still so steady on the couple shivering in fear in the corner, the white wolf gently spoon-fed the crying baby on the floor and jumped out the back window. It stopped dead in its tracks as the place was already surrounded by villagers armed with knives.
For a moment, no one moved.
People's surprise was not unwarranted; the most frightening thing about a snow-white wolf with a baby in its mouth were the deep-set, ghost-like eyes.
Suddenly, a torch was thrown, and the white wolf dodged backward with agility, then suddenly accelerated toward the crowd. Smooth fur grazed people's shoulders, arms, and thighs. People shouted and waved their scythes and hoes, trying to hit the snow-white figure, but the silver lightning didn't seem to take any of this seriously, weaving back and forth among the people, as if it had already arranged its route. Eventually, it broke free of its pursuit and burrowed into the dark forest.
It reappeared on the cliff, letting out a long, triumphant whistle, the red blood dripping down its back, but it didn't even care, scrutinizing the baby at its feet, an imperceptible love hidden in its eyes.
The next morning, the villagers realized that the house to the edge of the woods a ground of blood, like a winding road.
Two
Fifteen years later ......
The village had become a small town, a bustling scene, and a few years ago, the villagers had guns, and they were no longer afraid of wolves. The wolf's status changed from hunter to hunted in one fell swoop.
The woods diminished a lot, and the wolf's life got worse and worse.
The white wolf, now the third-generation alpha of this decaying family of wolves, was visibly older, his sleek silver fur having long since split and fallen off. His body was covered in dense scars, which, to his pain, were mostly at the hands of his own companions. Most horrific of all, was the deep, long scar on his back, the skin around the crack turning a dark gray, an injury that had tormented the wise alpha every hour of every day for fifteen years. Especially in recent years, severe pain often came suddenly, and the disease was eating away at the once unruly soul bit by bit.
But what had never changed were the golden eyes, still as calm, cold, and deep as they had been fifteen years ago, shining with contempt.
The white wolf, who loved to be alone, loved the winds of the late night, loved the moonlit night sky, and at that moment was lying quietly on the cliff, looking down at the black forest, and when the evening wind blew, its ears twitched slightly to feel the coolness that the wind brought.
The steepest rock on this cliff symbolized supreme authority and absolute rule among the wolves, and I don't know how many simmering red eyes stared viciously at this rock. But since the white wolf became the alpha, no second wolf had ever reached the top of this rock.
White Wolf just lazily lay on his back, squinting his eyes, letting the wind play with his scattered silver fur, and gradually he was falling asleep.
But a few small noises made it realize something was wrong, and it wasn't the wind, but the footsteps of the hunters.
A faint scent of blood slowly filled the air, a scent he was familiar with, a scent that every good wolf hunter could not hide from, and one that was even more pungent before the bloodbath.
Suddenly, it realized something, and struggled to its feet, sliding silently down the stone wall, its hands, not as agile as they had been in its youth.
Golden eyes just gazed silently into the thick darkness, until several pairs of green eyes appeared, and then slowly retreated into the dense forest.
This was to be expected, the dirty power struggle had been going on for fifteen years, and though their opponents had never succeeded, they were not dead.
The few gray wolves under the rock seemed to be a bit hesitant, on the one hand, one had to admit that the alpha was absolutely competent, he possessed great skill, extraordinary wisdom, perfect leadership, and a heart as hard as a stone but not less compassionate, the assassins couldn't seem to find any reason to kill him. If we really want to talk about it, it was only its withdrawn character that was a bit hard to accept, but it was not an unforgivable sin. On the other hand, fear plagued them; after all, the alpha was so different that the chances of success were slim, and if it failed, only death awaited.
Finally, a grey wolf with an oily body made up its mind, the desire to be the leader of the pack had haunted it for too long, and it couldn't let the opportunity it had waited so long for just slip away. With a slight muffled yelp from it, the other wolf made its final decision.
This elaborate plot was just about to be put into action when their ears suddenly heard the alpha's mournful, shrill yelp, a sound that echoed through the trees, emanating from nowhere. At once, everything froze.
The panicked slayers had long been in disarray, and they thrashed about, surrounded by nothing but endless night.
Another mournful cry completely destroyed their mental defenses, and the extremely fearful killers had scurried off into the jungle, and all that was left, was a gray wolf.
The white wolf knew very well that it was now no match for a pack of ferocious gray wolves. It would have to scare off as many enemies as it could. There was only one threat left now.
It stepped out of the blackness without a moment's hesitation, forcing itself to face this unsure fight. When it came into contact with the fierce gaze of the robust power-seeker, it was as if it saw itself in its youth.
There was a clearing under the rock, where the last gray wolf looked around warily. It saw the familiar golden light of a tall, cold, snow-white figure emerging from the thick blackness, like the embodiment of a tree shadow in the moonlight. The aged ruler was not at all flustered, not a trace of anger could be found in his eyes, and he approached it calmly, as he usually did.
The white wolf tried his best to hide his racing heart, knowing full well that he was not a god, that if he lived, he would die, and that if he was young, he would surely grow old. The hope of winning is very slim in front of this male wolf in his prime, maybe he really can't do it anymore and should give up this seat, this is the fact that for many years, it is unwilling to admit.
The gray wolf couldn't help but take a few steps back, the rival in front of him was invincible in the minds of many wolves in the pack. Legend had it that it had actually escaped from an entire village surrounded by hunters and strongmen fifteen years ago. The gray wolf had also seen the alpha take on a rabid brown bear on his own, snapping the bear's throat with lightning-like precision. It hesitated to do so, the outcome still unknown.
Finally, the gray wolf moved, accelerating with all its might, realizing that it would never be luckier than the bear if it gave the other the chance.
Just as the two wolves came into contact, the white wolf dodged aside and reached out its right paw to give the gray wolf a sharp blow to the belly, then quickly turned and took a bite out of its rival's spine. The gray wolf groaned in pain, having been thoroughly enraged. It rolled over to get away from the chasing bite, and when it looked back, the white wolf was gone. Before it could look back, it was struck again on the back of its head. This time, the gray wolf seized the opportunity, it endured the pain, jumped backward and pounced on the white figure. The two wolves wrestled.
Howls filled the valley, and the wind grew stronger and colder.
The gray wolf, though superior in speed and strength, could not take advantage of the white wolf's skillful pouncing and changeable tactics, and the two sides could only rely on physical strength to decide the winner. This point is obviously unfavorable to the white wolf, it found a gap to push away the opponent, panting and retreated to a large tree, the body of several newly added wounds are dripping dark red blood. The gray wolf was also a bit fatigued, but it realized that the alpha wasn't as strong as it had thought; the alpha was old after all, and if the fight went on, the situation would become more and more favorable to it. This added to its confidence.
Just as the gray wolf was preparing for its second charge. It noticed that there was something abnormal about the alpha, its white body trembled uncontrollably, and the golden glow in its eyes suddenly faded.
This most critical juncture, the terrible pain of the injury came back to the door, like hot flames spreading in the body, the sanity has been unclear, the eyes are gradually blind, not to mention fighting, even standing is very difficult, but one can not fall, can not fall ......
White wolf body lopsided planted on the ground.
This unexpected surprise seemed unacceptable, and did not seem like some treacherous trick. The gray wolf was in some disbelief as it took a step towards the unconscious alpha, was it all true?
The gray wolf leaned down and sniffed, its cruel and arrogant gaze falling on the blood that was trickling from the alpha's body. Slowly, it brought its mouth to the snowy neck, exposing its sharp teeth in preparation for the final end.
A gust of inexplicable wind blew, and it was violently knocked off its feet.
The gray wolf looked on in horror, and in front of it was a pair of crystalline aquamarine eyes, shooting out a cold light.
Three
The next morning, the sun woke the white wolf, and beside it lay the cold carcass of the gray wolf.
It staggered to its feet , strained to drag the carcass up the cliff, raised its head, and let out a long, triumphant whine, then pushed the carcass down the hill. What it was about to show, this is what happens to rebels.
Below the cliff, a teenager was smiling at the figure on the rock.
Fifteen years ago, the white wolf had snatched the boy and raised him, but a pack full of rivalry and hypocrisy and cunning was no place for a baby to grow up. So it secretly hid the baby boy in a hole in an ancient tree and raised him in secret, following the wolf's ways. The white wolf loved his watery blue eyes; just by seeing them, even the most chaotic of minds would calm down. These eyes, like a shelter for the mind, made it docile.
The white wolf had often thought that perhaps it was born to be alone, but after seeing this child, its thoughts changed. For the first time something understood its heart and gave it comfort. Though their communication was limited to a few brief chirps and glances from both sides, it was all that no other wolf could do.
The white wolf hadn't been such a loner before, treating every wolf it encountered with a fiery heart, but in the end all it got in return was being used and abandoned. It gradually realized that this was the real world, and that its previous self was too idealistic. The gray wolves that escaped from the village under its desperate cover that day didn't all end up being the same as the killers that attacked it last night, trying to find ways to take over the alpha's seat. Perhaps it had had a few loyal subordinates before, but subordinates didn't get to know it enough to be its friends, and besides, they were gone now.
All of its hopes and ideals were pinned on the fifteen year old human child, and it sometimes thought that it was still too naive.
The victorious ruler wearily made his way down the rocky cliff to the large tree from last night, looking up at the lush canopy to let the tree know he had come.
Soon the boy slid down from the tree, bending down slightly in honor of his father. The white wolf gently touched his neck to Zhang's head full of thick black hair. After meeting, they sat down opposite each other, neither speaking, exchanging feelings with their eyes.
White Wolf had always had a matter on his mind, as early as five years ago, the people of the village had discovered the wolf boy. Time and time again they had organized men to search into the forest, and half of it was because of this child. And more than once it had noticed the teenager sneaking into the village, hiding in the shadows and observing people's every word and action. The teenager had been making strange noises from time to time lately, and it wondered if that might be human language.
The white wolf knew that he was only a foster father, a wolf in the wild, and that the teenager had human blood in his veins, and sooner or later he would return to his human home. At that time, the teenager might become its enemy. It didn't dare to think about the future; the thought of leaving the only soulmate in its life made it very sensitive and irritable, completely losing its usual calmness. On the cliff, it also often pondered whether it should let the boy know the truth and let him go back.
The clever youngster saw something strange in his father's look, and he came forward and kissed his father's forehead. But the father kept avoiding him, hiding what was on his mind.
The white wolf told the teenager to hide, and came back to the cliff himself, when a she-wolf with a newborn pack of cubs passed in front of it, and surprisingly one was as white as snow. This at once quickened the white wolf, which had never seen itself as a child. It secretly followed this little one, now and then nudging it up with the tip of its snout, trying to provoke it. But the little guy's reaction was not what it expected, this little white furry mass turned around and looked at it with clear eyes, and all of a sudden, the white wolf's heart melted, this little guy's eyes were actually golden as well.
In the midst of his many children, this one was the only one who seemed very slow, unlike his older siblings, who made a lot of noise all day long. The little one liked to climb on his father's back, gazing out into the heart of the evening sky, carefully observing the small animals as they ran and jumped. The white wolf seemed to see another hope, this may be his successor.
Thinking of this, it made up its mind to be done with it.
Four
The next night, the white wolf found the boy.
The two of them sneaked into the town, and the teenager was very surprised as to why his father knew the roads of the town better than he did.
By this time, the night was already late, they followed a path and walked quietly against the wall, the teenager's footsteps sounded very harsh in the quiet night, even though his father had told him several times to lighten up, he wasn't a real wolf after all.
The white wolf stopped in front of a small cabin that still had a light on, he stood by the window, the teenager understood what he meant and looked in the window.
A little girl was quietly reading a book, her long black hair falling from her shoulders, and on the bed next to the desk, a couple was sleeping, the husband's loud snoring stirring up memories that the teenager had long been sleeping on.
The teenager gazed at the girl for a long time, she had blue eyes and dark hair like his. He looked around again, trying to think of something to an empty cradle.
White Wolf touched the teenager's heel before the teenager snapped back to his senses and looked at his father quizzically.
The white wolf degrees to the door and with a lunge, slams it open and walks in again, unperturbed, the teenager stunned.
The couple in the bed jumped up at once, turning their heads to see that the nightmare from fifteen years ago had returned.
The white wolf let out a low growl to stabilize the couple, then gestured for the teenager to come in. But the wife had passed out and the husband was fumbling with his gun under the bed. Only the girl saw the naked teenager and froze as she walked through the door.
No one screamed, and the mere sight of the golden eyes seemed to press down on everyone's throat. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the click of a gun.
The husband crawled out from under the bed, a shotgun in his trembling hands, and the white wolf wondered how it had been fifteen years, or so.
Just as he took aim at White Wolf, he saw the dark, pale-haired teenager, and slowly lowered the raised barrel.
"Arthur, is that you?" He asked softly after a long time.
"Brother?" The girl was also in a bit of disbelief, "That wolf boy in the forest was really you? I knew you wouldn't die."
The wife also came to her senses, the son she had missed every day for fifteen years, had he really come back?
Two crystals rolled down from the boy's eyes, and the white wolf knew that they were human tears.
The four people did not move for a long time, just silent tears,
White Wolf thought, he should go, so quietly exit, years of heart this end, no longer have any hang-ups, although very reluctant to part with this teenager.
It retreated to the door and ran out in a flash, constantly looking back as if hoping the boy would return to him. It also understood that this was impossible, that the teenager did not belong to it.
Is it possible that these fifteen years of raising and teaching have been given up for nothing, is it possible that the boy really cares so little about his adoptive father, is it ...... possible that the white wolf can't help but ask itself, and a strong sense of jealousy and resentment wells up in its heart. So, it again kept comforting itself, he saved your life several times, you should also be satisfied.
It realized that this was the truth, and the truth was merciless, whether you wanted to accept it or not.
Five
For many days afterward, the white wolf thought about the young boy all the time, about the pure blue color of his eyes. Only the little white wolf could make his low mood better. One early summer morning, he took his son for a walk in the still dewy grass.
The morning breeze was full of moisture and cool. He twitched his ears slightly and plopped down by a small pool of water, yawning lazily as he watched his son sniff the different colored flowers.
Suddenly, butterflies fluttered up from the grass, and the white wolf raised its head alertly, pricked up its pointed ears as it heard hoofbeats, and many, many horses were coming this way to the jungle.
The hunting party was coming again, and this time it seemed much larger than usual.
It immediately darted in the direction of the rocky cliffs, many of the wolves in the clan had not yet woken up and a surprise attack at this point would be fatal.
The wind was whistling in his ears, and his strength was about to be depleted, at the moment he had only one thought in his head, "Charge! Rush! Rush!
If anyone could have seen the wolf running at full speed, he would have thought his eyes were blurred, just a golden line and a white light.
The white wolf went crazy and crashed through many branches, finally coming to the foot of the mountain, and with a dive jumped up the mountain and braked on the cliff. It exerted all its strength and let out a piercing, slightly hoarse roar into the sky. The sound was like a sharp blade, cutting through the sky and echoing in the valley. The heat of early summer vanished in an instant, and the whole forest was shaken awake.
It used up the last of its strength and collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
At that moment, a forgotten event cooled it from head to toe.
The son, still in that meadow, it had forgotten all about.
It was too late for regret, and the white wolf staggered and braced itself, trotting towards the edge of the cliff, but accidentally, its foot slipped, and it practically rolled down the hill, breaking its hind legs and tearing a gash in its brain.
Worse still, the damned wound was on fire again, and it knew that from now on it would have to race against its own sanity, and even if it had to fight for its life, it couldn't fall before it rescued its son.
A three-legged wolf, half of its white fur already stained red, limped through the bushes, taking three or five steps before falling, but miraculously, it did not stop, did not give up.
The little white thing finally appeared in front of it, and it was relieved that its son seemed to be all right, and it slowed down to walk to him. The little guy added his tongue to his father's forehead, and the body it had been holding together with its will finally collapsed, and with a blackout, it knew nothing more.
A few minutes later it opened its eyes again and realized that they were surrounded by horses. It turned out that the son was a trap.
On a large reddish-brown horse, it seemed to see those long-lost blue eyes, and just as it was about to get up, the excruciating pain caused it to pass out once more.
People instantly recognized the wolf of fifteen years ago, with a path paved with blood behind it.
Six
The white wolf dreamed many dreams, and it was not until the morning of the third day that it lifted its heavy eyelids, and its son was curled up under its belly, sleeping soundly.
It looked around, many of its companions were held in a dozen iron cages, large and small, and many more were hanging from the walls, out of breath. There was no doubt that the blow was unprecedented, and the vast majority of the wolves hadn't been able to escape the hunt. This meant that the wolves' previous escape routes and hiding places were known.
Betrayal, shameful betrayal, the white wolf struggled to its feet, hatred in its eyes as it fumed and banged against the thick bars of the cage. Why, why, the only friend he trusted was betraying him, those blue eyes were meant to be a vile trap, it was a mistake to bring him back in the first place. The white wolf went mad and didn't fall to the ground until he was covered in blood, the wolves around him looked on in amazement, they had never seen their alpha so violent.
For the next three days, the white wolf lay motionless, even though his son kept making a lot of noise around him. The wolves hanging on the wall were skinned, the caged wolves were taken away one by one, and the blue eyes never reappeared, there was no hope anymore, death was the only way.
On the night of the third day, the white wolf stood up, he had to defend the last dignity of the wolf family, tomorrow it would be his turn to be taken away.
Gazing at his sleeping son in the moonlight, he watched for a long time, then he brought his teeth close to his son's throat.
Hot blood gushed out, and the little one just moaned twice. It woke up and looked helplessly at its dumbfounded father, and closed its eyes again, hoping it was all just a dream.
The white wolf let out a sad, miserable yelp, then viciously tore off his son's snow-white fur and, with the blood, swallowed it.
For a long time, the taste of blood around the corners of its mouth did not go away, and it realized now that it hated blood so much.
It felt empty inside, everything had been taken away from it, there was no sadness, no pain, no resentment, and it was only when there was some faint salty taste on its lips that it realized that its eyes had gotten wet.
The white wolf wondered if this could be wolf tears, do wolves have tears too?
Watery moonlight cascaded over it, and the white wolf slept quietly.
Seven
The next day people were stunned when they found father and son, a son without fur and a father with a mouth full of blood. What they didn't see, however, were the shallow tear tracks on the father's face.
The boy burst into tears, no matter how much people tried to comfort him.
Finally, the teenager carried away the two bodies, one large and one small, and buried them under that rock on the cliff. After burying them, he knelt there for three whole days and three nights.
The people in the village realized that the teenager was missing, and could not find the young hero who had made a great achievement. Some said he had gone away over the mountain, into deeper and deeper woods, toward farther and farther peaks.
There were no more wolves in the forest, and the rocks meant nothing.
The boy's sister often came to the huge rock on the cliff and looked out over the lush woods and rolling peaks in the distance, hoping to find his brother. But she felt that her brother would never return.
She remembered her brother telling her that he was probably born alone.