It was many miles to the valley below, though walking down the scree-covered mountainside was much easier than coming up it. Tired feet were a little sore because his shoes, being nearly as old as he was, were not all that comfortable. The soles had worn very thin, so small stones on the pathway tended to dig through and pinch his feet and toes while walking. Eventually, he reached the main path towards the forest, some two or three miles from the village where his destiny awaited a timely arrival. Tired legs trudged across a most uneven forest floor, calves aching with every step. Such discomfort in his legs always stole the beautiful sounds of the forest from his mind. The trees were tall and often so close together that they hindered progress. As he attempted to negotiate a way through a path strewn with roots, stumbling and nearly falling flat on his face, he heard the howl and whining of a wolf in the distance. Instinctively coming to an abrupt halt, the old man dropped to his haunches. Leaning down rather precariously, he used his right arm to support himself against an old oak tree. Again, he heard the howl, but this time, it seemed closer than before. Suddenly, through the undergrowth off to his right, he watched in awe as bushes and bracken parted with force. A huge dog-wolf stood in front of him.
The dog-wolf was huge with big blue eyes sunk into a deep-set stare. The old man and the dog-wolf stared at each other, their eyes met neither showing any sign of fear, not a flinch of muscle nor a wisp of hair moved between them. Motionlessly he stared into the wolf’s eyes and thought how frightened this beast of the forest seemed but how beautiful and majestic in his fear. His huge, sleek body hunched forward into a defensive stance. Massive paws and strong muscular front legs dug several inches into the forest floor, which allowed some idea of how heavy he was. A vast mouth quivered, snarling and slavering as great white fangs captured the old man’s attention. His slobbering tongue dribbled spittle on the forest floor as the wolf, standing ground, shook his great head from side to side. Hermit kept perfectly still. He did not even allow the sound of breath to rise from his chest.
The arm that supported him against the tree felt slightly strained from holding his body perfectly still; tired muscles twitched in spasm. The dog-wolf stood his ground, digging huge paws deeper into the earth. Around his great thick neck, a black and golden ruff was imprisoned in a thick leather collar. Attached to the collar was a heavy linked chain. The dog-wolf must have dragged these chains of bondage for miles through the forest. From wherever he had come, and no matter how many miles he may have travelled, these chains of bondage travelled with him. The free end of the heavy chain lay on the ground, and Hermit could not help but notice a dead tree stump caught in the chain links, adding to the weight this beautiful animal dragged on his escape.
The dog-wolf was obviously tired, worn out and very frightened, and his beautiful body was covered in blood from old scars that had opened and new wounds which ripped at the muscular body as he charged through the forest. His chest was heaving with breathlessness, and an empty, lean stomach stuck to the bony rib cage, which protruded through his flesh.
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Lazarus Carpenter - Author 