Color of Detachment English

The biting midnight cold stung his skin. The bushes seemed to have razor-sharp knives attached to the edges of their leaves, slicing through his skin as he raced through them. The debris on the forest floor set traps of stumps on his path, causing him to stumble forward, but he raced through the forest, defiant.

He would groan occasionally as his foot caught in a vine, – or an imaginary puddle – staggering and swearing all at once, but still, he wouldn’t stop. He could feel his warm blood trickle over his toe from where he had stepped on a thistle earlier. The scent of the fresh blood would lead his assailants to him, but he didn’t mind. He barely had any choice left.

“It’s no use running, boy!”

Father’s voice echoed through the forest, taunting him. He squinted. He was almost at his destination.

He approached a large mildew-ridden boulder ahead and took a sharp left without slowing down to catch his breath. His instincts were still on high alert. The wolves were still on his heels, chasing him down on every side.

Father’s laughter filtered into his ears, scaring him for a split second.

“There’s no way to run. It’s just a matter of time before I catch up with you, boy. Tick! Tock!”

The moonlit forest that had served as a home to him for these past months now seemed to be a maze – a deathtrap. He heard a howl from a distance and cringed. The Alpha was summoning every wolf in the pack to join the chase.

He approached an unusually large tree and ran even faster now, heading straight for it. He should catch his breath, but the sound of his assailants racing through the bushes around him gave him no such room.

Now about a foot away from the tree he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the tree.

“No, no, no, no, no” he intoned in obvious horror. He half-limped around the tree and ran his hands over the bark of the tree – or what used to be its bark. Someone had taken the time to strip off the bark of the entire tree.

They knew he would head for this tree. It had been his mother’s favorite place in the forest. She had always brought him here whenever father was feeling wild, like tonight.

They had herded him here all along. He steadied his breath and listened. The rustling of leaves about him had gone quiet. He could scent them hidden in the bushes around the clearing at the foot of the tree. Yet, they seemed to be waiting for some sort of command before they attacked him.

“I can hear you breathe” he spat through clenched teeth, listening to the sound of his heartbeat in rhythm with the wind.

A yellow-eyed wolf poked his head from among the bushes, watching him as cautiously as he watched it.

“Oh Troy, now I feel insulted. Of everyone in the pack, he had to send you, didn’t he?”

But the wolf would not answer. Instead, it charged at him, teeth first. He charged back in careful long strides, stretching his hand to reveal his long claws. He shut his blue eyes momentarily, opening them to reveal gold-brown eyes. Immediately, his clawed hand connected with the wolf’s jaw. The wolf landed on its side and scrambled to his feet, growling.

Another wolf emerged from the forest, then another.