Musings of the Sundarman

Sensitive Sam (contd.)

The attack on the hairless ones was planned to ensue in the dark. Sam's father was a general in the pack, number 3 in the hierarchy, and a veteran of many battles.

The plan was to encircle the hairless ones' burrows and close in. To attack them and stun them with violent ferocity as they slept. As the pack moved into position, all was quiet in the hairless ones' camp.

And then it happened! The largest of the hairless ones, with a blood-curdling cry, leaped out of the shadows, with a stout stick in one hand and a burning staff on the other. Sam's father, a bundle of snarling teeth and claws, met the challenge, only to be struck down with the sharpest edge he had even encountered...He crashed to the gound, blood pouring out of a gaping hole in his neck, whimpering in agony. And then, pandemonium broke out in the camp, as a melee ensued between the opposing armies. It was over minutes later, the wolf-pack struck down in great numbers as the hairless ones exercised their might with their burning sticks and razor-sharp sticks.

Sam had barely reached the point of greatest carnage when he was struck by a mighty club and smashed to the soft earth. As he drifted into unconsciousness, his last thought was..."My family...is gone...".

The feeling of tiny hands and the smell of a great fire greeted him as he recovered groggily. A little voice made soft sounds and stroked the great bump on his head. He looked up to see four pairs of eyes on him, looking at him with scowls and teeth bared.

But the little put his arms around him and held him close. And sensitive Sam felt his love. And his heart melted. He had lost his blood-brothers, but found a new little brother. Sam would live a long, happy life with the hairless ones. He hunted with them, played with their little ones and guarded their camp at darkness.

And in return, they rewarded him with a love and adoration he could only remember from his childhood dreams. He had changed, this children of wolves. He had truly joined his dream-pack and as his whiskers grew grey, and his legs weary, he looked back on his life with a bitter-sweet feeling. Sensitive Sam had come home.