"David,.Peter.-.Howling.Mad" - читать интересную книгу автора (David Peter)

Why? Why were humans smashing through the woods?
Human voices, those flat, inelegant nasal tones, echoed through the protecting
forest. The dogs, those distant relatives, sounded closer, louder, more furious.
The wolf ran.
Strange, incomprehensible sounds came from the humans behind him, but the intent
was clear. The tone was unmistakable. Triumph. The humans were on the scent of
self.
Self had better get the hell out of there.
The wolf ran faster. Blood pumped through his veins, the sounds of yapping and
shouting and barking all jumbling together through the haze of instinctive fear
that had descended on the wolf's mind.
Escape. Escape. Had to escape.
But not toward the pack, the wolf realized quickly, and immediately veered his
course away. To lead humans to pack would be height of betrayal. Even safety in
numbers would not save self from hideous humans with their strange sticks that
spat death.
The wolf came upon a small brook and splashed through it, determined to throw
off the scent. He slid a bit, his paws now thoroughly wet, but he caught himself
and plunged onward. Faster. More desperate. Ahead of him was solid rock, a sheet
of it placed there as if from providence, with only a few shrubs fighting up
between the cracks. The wolf charged across it, claws clicking merrily on the
craggy surface. Then the wolf was gone, leaping high into the air and crashing
through the brush.
The wolf was so preoccupied with his flight for life that he didn't detect the
scent of a human ahead of him before it was too late.
He leaped the brush into a small clearing, and caught the scent while still in
midair. His legs pinwheeled as if, through clawing at the air, he could redirect
his trajectory. It was impossible, of course, and the wolf thudded to the ground
a mere two feet away from the overpowering human smell.
Fortunately for the wolf the human was already dead.
The wolf stood there for a moment, regarding the human closely. The wolf had
rarely had an opportunity to study one this closely before, for the pack's rule
was to give humans as wide a berth as possible. Keep self away from humans was
the general order of things, a rule that the wolves obeyed religiously.
This human, however, was no threat. This human lay there with arms outstretched
and a contorted expression on its face. The wolf padded softly towards the
human, noting dispassionately that the human had been ripped apart. Death and
carcasses were hardly a novelty to the wolf.
What caught the wolf's attention was the other scent, mixed in with the human's.
It was the scent that he had noticed earlier. The self-death scent that had
ranged through the bushes and trees. Whatever the creature was who was stalking
through the territory, it had killed this human.
Then the wolf saw the death stick lying next to the human and jumped several
feet away. His tail stood straight out, and he snarled at the stick, almost
daring it to try something. But the stick lay there, uselessly, and slowly the
wolf perceived that the stick was no threat to self. Nevertheless, taking no
chances, the wolf padded carefully around the death stick, giving it a very
suspicious look and growling low in his throat.
The wolf heard the distant sounds of pursuit and realized he could waste no more
time. He bolted further away, and ran at breakneck speed. Filtered sunlight