Rage the Wolf
Quib the Bat lapped the bloo ~ 8ުoN7 K C @B B 0;
“Why do you laugh, brother? Always you taunted and laughed at the others. Are we not one and the same?” She asked.
“Apparently, we are not,” Quib nodded to her wing. “But I know a way to fix that. Why the old Leo had plenty of holes in his flapping wings.”
“Oh thank you, brother. What must I do?”
“I’ll set the preparations,” Quib said, “you keep your blood circulating by swinging round as you are. Then, we’ll fill your belly.”
“I can’t thank you enough, Quib.”
“Now, now, sister, don’t tear, your eyes will freeze.”
“Please hurry, Quib,” she said.
Quib flew off towards a hill over the pass. The land had become more and more hellish, the trees more gnarled. The ground was cracking and pulling the surrounding nature downwards into black abysses. He stopped his flight and landed on an open sheet of snow. He lay with his back on the earth and his head tilted up. Lazily sticking out his tongue, closing his eyes, he lay. Quib figured he’d wait for the clouds to pass through his vision, twice, before heading back to his sister.
Rage was burrowing through the snow. The last of his strength having passed, he traveled unconsciously, paw after paw. The pit in his stomach screamed pain through his whole. He had fallen to the snow; his tongue slowly lapped the snow by his face. A wolf should be stronger, he thought. His family dead, Rage knew he mustn’t let the others down. He rolled his head on the snow, trying to maintain some control over his weakened body. Cold and hungry, he laid with snow on his back and trees in his upside-down vision. They moved. The gnarled nightmares twisted in front of his eyes. They performed a sick dance with their claws, slicing through the air and beckoning for him. He was afraid. He knew his state and had heard of others having hallucinations. The clouds sank from the grey skies and skewered themselves in impalement on the trees. The bark of the trees imploded and scratched the clouds, breaking their bodily state and devouring them. Rage could not shut his eyes.
Quib swung his head around in circles. He was more glutton than he’d ever been, more so than any other brown-tail he knew. He developed an aching for blood – warm, salty blood flowing on the sides of his faces, borrowing his body inside their corpses. Quib’s eyes flicked on sharp and his grin enveloped his face. He stood up and flapped his wings, heading back to his sister.
He took a current in the air, allowing him to focus his mind on the blood, rather than the flight. The wind was strong – a blizzard would hit soon. He glided down to his sister who was swinging on the tree branch.
“Oh, Quib, I…” She said.
Quib darted his aim straight towards her. His speed unwavering, he rushed her, just in coordination of when she was on top of the branch. Their bodies flew through the air, tumbling, the snow cushioning their fall. His sister’s face turned to horror as Quib sank his beak into her neck. She shrieked. He shook his pointed beak and lifted his head back and swung again, drilling her neck open and ripping side to side. The blood he so desired splattered forth.
His beak slivered out and slowly he thrust his tongue into her neck, immersing it into the blood. He dug and dug into her, forcing his body into hers. He lay atop her with her stomach and neck flapped open, covering him in her remains. He squirmed in the blood, enjoying his bath. He twisted his head and snaked back and forth, dropping his tongue and gulping the blood hard. He laid his face next to hers, untouched, he had avoided her face with his beak. His grin ever present, he licked her face, up and down.
“Poor Sis’. All will be fine. Yes, yes.”
He approved with a nod. Dragging her by her feet, her entrails spilled out on the way. He dragged her far off towards the ocean. It was covered in ice; he had walked far out by the edge of water and left her body. Taking flight to the grey skies, he flew at the level of having the puffy, long clouds on his back. The tingling, cooling sensation, cleansed him. Lapping up snow as he had before, he wiggled the blood off his body. His round, firm stomach was sticking out farther. A knot in his stomach hit him fast and forced the blood up his throat the. Spraying blood into the cloud-filled night, he had gorged too much for his small body.
He continued his flight, maneuvering through the thickening winds, his stomach deflating slightly. Blood on his mind, he searched for more meat.
Rage lay in his beaten state, still slightly conscious. His smell already driven from his senses, his ears were freezing, yet still he could hear. Flapping wings were above his head, coming closer, he knew it to be a bat.
“Welly, welly, welly, well. How are you, Mister Wolf? You look quite hungry, yes, yes, you do.”
Rage could see the hooked feet of Quib. Quib’s head bent down in an agile move, his neck turning, twisting, and out came the bat’s tongue. Quib lapped at Rage’s iced-over eyes, drinking up the shards which so irritated Rage. He began to blink and was comforted at last, yet still ravenous for food. He growled.
“Hungry, yes?” Quib asked.
Rage breathed heavily, he attempted to speak, but couldn’t. His words were drawn out growls and roars, choking on spit.
“Now, now, get up, Wolf. You’ll die by just laying there. I have something for you, yes I do. There’s food I’ve spotted not far from here. Food for you, my friend. I’ve became so lonely these past moons. All I ask is for your companionship.”
Rage roared, sliding his teeth side to side.
“Not me, friend. Come now, follow your pally, Quib the Bat. I’ll bring you to the meat.” Quib said. He savored the word meat and let his eyes shine for a moment to indulge in the thought.
Rage hesitantly nodded, agreeing to the bat.
“Up, up.” Quib said, pushing at Rage’s backside. Leaning his weight and lifting him. Rage inhaled and sucked in the air, his thin chest inflating like the size of a beast. The notion of fresh meat so close gave him more wind in his lungs. Rage stood on all-fours. Quib smiled broad and hopped onto Rage’s back. He clang his talon feet into Rage’s fur and crossed his arms on his chest, enfolding himself in his wings. Quib bent his neck over, in front of Rage’s hungry eyes and smiled with his devious grin.
“Bop, bop bop, yes, yes, yes. March on, Wolf, this way.” Quib pointed with his winged arm in the north direction.
Veronica lay asleep in her cave, her family coat covering her in warmness and nostalgia. She dreamed deep dreams, envisioning the nature she loved, prancing around with her family in warm, forgiving weather.
Quib and Rage traveled on. Clouds passed above, the gnarled nightmares stood as their obstacles. The wind began howling louder, giving the snow a quickened speed. Quib kept padding Rage, ensuring him of the fresh meat ahead. He sang nonsense songs.
“Ba dop ba, da, da, da, la, la, la.” Quib laughed, amused with his songs and enjoying the time with his new companion. “Onwards, Wolf! Your food, awaits!”
The grand cave stood ahead. A large mouth of an opening stretched on both lips of the top border, with a slope in the center.
“Friend of mine, friend of all and even yours! Yes, yes, yes, yes. Travel on, my fur-faced friend. Travel to our feast, yours and mine, mine and yours. Yes, yes.”
The cave swallowed them, leaving the elements behind. The circular walls had ribs sticking out. It was a grand, organic tube with great walls and more warmth the deeper they went. Quib tilted his head side to side. He hung on Rage’s back, dipping his head into Rage’s vision, baring his fanged teeth and smiling gums.
Rage’s strength was gaining; he knew he was going beyond his limit. His strength did not lie in his wolf body. It was solely in his persistent mind. His eyes were yellow swirls, dedicated to his drive. Growls erupted from his mouth every ten steps.
“Shhh, shhhh, Wolf. We don’t want to alert the prey. Hold your growls for the feast. Let surprise be our vantage. Yes, yes.”
The end of the cave had finally come. The ceiling stretched upwards like a low atmosphere, and there lay in the clearing the plump, beautiful Veronica the Deer.
“Ohhhhh” Quib whispered, “beautiful, green-fur meat for you my pally. Yessss.” Quib was ecstatic with glee.
“Wolf,” he gently whispered, “she’s yours, all yours, pally-wally, wally-pally.”
Rage inhaled deeply again. His chest inflated to the beast-like, over-bearing size. The darkness of the cave engulfed them all, his shadow projected towards the green-fur. Rage’s eyes studied her. Her chest slowly inhaling and exhaling in breaths, the skin was drawn tight to her breast. He lowered his head closer to her and looked around for Quib.
Quib hung upside-down from the top of the cave ceiling; he anxiously awaited Rage’s every move. Quib nodded to Rage and pointed to the green fur.
Rage cast his eyes upon her again: her round, button nose; large, soft eyelids; giant, rabbit-like ears; and a fluffy, white ball of a tail. Rage’s mouth opened, all of his jagged, sharp teeth exposed. Drool hung out and covered his neck and chest. He sank down deep into Veronica’s chest. Blood splattered. He tore savagely, side to side. The flesh covered meat began to rip off. Veronica’s eyes shot open in fear. Rage shifted his eyes to her and saw her sadness and overwhelming fright.
The scare in her eyes affected him. He hesitated and let loose her flesh from his teeth. Rage stood with his mouth open, staring at her eyes and her eyes meeting his. Quib hanging above tilted his head to the side, confused.
All three animals were stupefied, puzzled by their emotions. Time paused as they reflected. Quietness ensued, all except for Veronica’s heavy breathing. The blood dripped from Rage’s teeth. He had wet his appetite and the rage spilled forth from his eyes. Clouding the past guilt and hesitance, he ravaged into her. Growling and tearing her apart, blood splattered forth, shooting over the ground, walls, and even Quib, who grinned widely with his face and wings covered in the spray of blood. Quib began laughing, his sinister expression revealed; he was overjoyed with Rage’s crisis.
Rage stopped his feast of Veronica and looked to Quib. Rage’s eyes spotted the protruding, round stomach – the firmly pouched skin, tightly drawn round his small stature. Quib’s grin melted away into a sneer. He shifted his eyes away from Rage. Then he nodded, looking around the cave, yet not looking at anything, he was deep in his mind acknowledging the situation.
“So the wolf has had his feast. Just as his pal, Quib the Bat, promised.”
Rage’s mind cleared from the madness and hunger of devouring Veronica, his face appeared saner. He looked at Quib. Their expressions were the same. In a look of contempt with knowledge of each other’s ideas, they stared each other down.
“You’re the only pal I got. And I, probably yours. Yes. Yes.” Quib said with each word sharp.
Rage’s eyes lowered to Veronica’s horror-stricken face. A flood of emotions spiraled through his mind, and the cloud of rage engulfed him again. Quib spotted it. Rage growled and leapt at Quib, as Quib pushed off the wall, flying towards Rage.