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Big men could admit when they made mistakes. And Tommy can admit that sometimes he was stupid.
Therefore, Big Man Tommy could admit that he made a stupid mistake.
Every were-creature knew not to leave their homes, let alone their territories during the full moon. Despite the power surge it gave the creatures of the night, the light of the moon gave the hunters a better line of sight than normal, and one would think that these bonuses would cancel each other.
Once upon a time, that was correct. Until the invention of the gun became a widespread commodity, which allowed the hunters to stay far away from the enhanced strength of the creature, and suddenly, a full moon was no longer a time for celebration.
But Tommy was young, hungry, and alone. Tommy didn’t have the luxury some packs did of feasting right before the full moon, allowing the pack to rest peacefully the night of. Tommy could barely feed himself scraps most weeks, let alone enough to sate the beast on the night of a full moon.
So Tommy did something stupid. He left his small hideout (A repurposed bunny burrow), and tried to find any scrap of food.
After several hours of wandering, Tommy’s vision was beginning to tunnel from hunger. And then the most wonderful smell floated by.
A squirrel. An amazing squirrel, who smelled of blood.
Tommy knew most werewolves did not eat squirrels, let alone injured and or rotting squirrels. But most werewolves had packs and had enough energy to chase after rabbits. Tommy was too small for the energy to be worth it. Injured squirrels, while they didn’t have a lot of meat to them, didn’t require a lot of energy to hunt down.
Unfortunately, injured squirrels had the tendency to die out of Tommy’s reach.
Tommy was so enthralled by the idea of a meal, that he stopped sniffing for the harsh smell of metal.
Tommy didn’t even hear the gun cocking, just the sound of it firing, and suddenly, all Tommy felt was pain.
The pain was centered on his left flank, and Tommy couldn’t bring himself to look at the injury. He knew there was going to be blood, and he knew something was up with his bones, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see what was happening.
After several seconds of shock, Tommy felt his remaining legs give out beneath him. Leaving him vulnerable to whoever fired the bullet.
But instead of footsteps getting closer, the footsteps began to leave. Which, despite neither option being great, was the worse option.
Tommy wasn’t going to get the pleasure of a quick death. These hunters weren’t going to put him out of his misery with a knife or even another bullet. No, they were condemning him to bleed out slowly and hoping he died of blood loss before another beast found him.
While werecreatures were protective of their packs, they were anything but nice to outsiders. Werecats might bat Tommy around before leaving him to die. Werebears might just walk past, with no sympathy for the werewolf pup left for dead. Other werewolves would be the worst option, as they would see him as a trespasser and only extend his suffering.
Tommy found himself whimpering, trying desperately to pull himself towards a tree. Maybe if he curled up tight enough, other creatures would overlook him, and Tommy could pass in peace.
That would be nice.
A peaceful passing for the least peaceful creature in the forest.
A normal ending for an abnormal wolf.
No one would know where he was. No one even knew him, so no one would even know to look for a pup they didn’t know existed.
Tommy was going to die alone, hungry, and in pain.
Tommy closed his eyes, while not content, accepting that this was his end.
The end of the unknown legend.
–
Tommy found his peace disturbed as something kept nudging his side.
Couldn’t Tommy die in peace? He let out a soft whine.
Apparently, that wasn’t an option as the nudging escalated to licking at his face. Tommy refused to open his eyes, he would accept his end, but he sure as hell didn’t want to look at it.
Whatever was licking him paused for a moment, and a loud howl filled Tommy’s ears. Great, a werewolf. A werewolf calling for their pack. This literally could not get any worse.
Tommy could hear more sets of paws rapidly approaching. Great.
At least Tommy was going to make a good appetizer for the wolves.