Small steps, softened by the soft ground. Sharp hooves pick daintily. Thin legs stand strong. A delicate head lowers to sample the grass. Large ears flick in wild contrast to otherwise slow movements.
She is alone, this beautiful, slender creature. She could almost appear calm but for her wary eyes. They dart towards the teasing shadows. Towards the whispering leaves and the dancing branches.
Like easy prey she must seem, standing in the open field. How delectable she must look to the wolf crouching in the bushes. His tongue lolls and saliva drips. Then he shifts a little too much, and the sound of twigs cracking explodes from beneath his paw.
Her head jerks up and her muscles tense, and then she is gone, bounding away to safety.
The wolf huffs as if cursing, and shoots after her. Howling to his pack mates, they run in formation. Practiced, trained, and hunger consuming their minds with ravenous jaws. Kill. Take. Feed.
Her small hooves fly from the ground, launching her past trees. Her eyes are dominated by colour-less fear.
Then the wolves are snapping at her legs, mouths gaping and snarling, white teeth flashing.
Her breath shudders in her lungs, a sigh escapes her lips.
And then there is a wolf leaping in front of her. Terrified, she tries to turn, but her moment of hesitation provides them with the seconds they need to fasten their jaws around her neck, her legs, her body. Teeth sink into her, piercing her, devastating her. They shake her, and she falls into into death’s cold, waiting arms.
She was just asking to be killed, the other deer whisper, as the story of her fate sweeps the herd. After all, wolves will be wolves. It’s a bad idea to tempt them like that.