Once he was content he’d cleaned himself as well as he could, he stretched and rose, ready to hunt again, heading back toward the forest. As he approached the trees, his tail shot up as his senses picked up paws headed his way, scents of rogues hitting his nose from all sides . . . including three behind him.
Fox spun around to spy the Wolves hurtling toward him from several hundred yards away and tried to figure out which was his best bet. Three behind, three in front, four on his left and two on his right. Right it was then. So he turned that way and took off, glad he’d had some sustenance to fuel his flight and pissed off they’d managed to find him . . . again. Were they after him specifically or were they after his kill?
Didn’t matter. He was bigger, faster, and all he needed to do was outrun them, then lose them so they couldn’t follow his scent . . . easy. Right?
Sure. And he had a magic wand he could wave and make himself invisible! Or better still, he could turn them all into little bitty pussy cats. That would be nice.
Get a grip, dumbass. He gave himself a telling off as he raced through the trees, no need for stealth at this point. Speed was the name of the game. Get away first and then think of covering up his tracks . . . before they all caught up to him.
He saw the two Wolves ahead, a mangy mutt out front that would cause him no problems and one that was lagging behind. He’d just barrel right on over it and then take out the next one. Fox increased his speed, ignoring the bushes ahead, planning on crashing through those too and then taking out the Wolf with his sheer size and speed. He careened right on, with no thought for stealth, his huge body demolishing the thick brush with ease . . . and excruciating pain filled his entire body, a roar tearing from his throat as his hind leg stepped in a bear trap.
The trap snapped shut with brutal finality, the sound of his leg breaking loud in his ears as he tumbled head over ass, the metal digging deeper into his muscle, sinew and bone. He roared again, pain and frustration filling the air as he stumbled to his feet, dragging his useless leg behind him. Anger coursed through him as the nearest Wolf closed the distance between them, a howl of glee breaking free from its throat, alerting its cohorts that Fox was injured.
Hell, if they thought they were getting off that easy they had another thing coming. He was a fucking Lion and even with only three legs, he wasn’t going down without a damn good fight. These dirty mongrels would soon find out what it was to take on one of his kind, especially one that was injured and cornered.
He had nothing to lose and there was nothing more dangerous than a Lion in that situation. They just didn’t know it . . . yet.
The Wolf stalked closer as Fox dropped down, acting his part as the injured beast to a T. Going so far as to make pitiful sounds that he forced from his throat and performing at trying to lift his head as if it weighed a ton. He dropped it down, making more sounds as if he were dying. Jeez, he should get a damn Oscar for his performance. Pity he wasn’t being filmed for this. If he put it online he’d surely win a dang award.
The mutt moved in, obviously wanting to play the hero and take him out before his friends arrived—playing right into Fox’s hands. He could smell the rank odor of the Wolf as he drew closer, only a rogue could give off a scent that bad. The stench was one that reeked of something Fox wasn’t used to, not just dirt and lack of cleanliness. It was far more, it was what ran deep within that made a renegade. Not just a lone Wolf, nor someone like Fox who lived alone, but a true rogue . . . pure evil. It poured from this beast and cloyed in Fox’s nostrils, enough to make him gag. He’d be able to tell this beast was corrupt no matter where they were, or if he were amongst a thousand other Wolves.
He’d take pleasure in ending this depraved being, and would have no remorse in doing so. And that would be in just a few more seconds. One more step . . . and now, as soon as that step was taken, Fox rose, using his size and superior strength to leap onto the Wolf, snapping the neck with such ease that he laughed inside at the stupidity of the animal. Were all Wolves this stupid? Or was is just rogues?
Dropping the corpse, Fox looked around for the best place to make his stand. Would it be his last stand? Maybe. But he’d ensure to take more of these fuckers down if it were his last moments on the Goddess’ good Earth.
The more the merrier.
He took in the details of where he stood, a copse of trees set to the side, with brambles around the base of a large oak . . . perfect. They wouldn’t be able to sneak up behind him and with the arc of the trees and thick brambles they could only attack, at most, two at a time. Manageable, if it weren’t a prolonged battle, going by the blood loss of his wound. The
