A Wolf So Grim and Mangy by Caroline Noe

Author:Caroline Noe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Midlife fantasy, Midlife comedy, Midlife magic, Humorous fantasy, satire, wolf fantasy, wolf romance, comic fantasy, female comedy, animal characters, middleage fantasy, changer comedy, bear fantasy
Publisher: Caroline Noe
Published: 2023-06-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Disappearing Into Thin Air

Once I settle amidst the mound of clothing, the trip is surprisingly comfortable, even given that bumping over the odd rock sends me airborne. The strength in those huge wings is phenomenal. I thought eagles tended to glide on air currents, but he’s flapping away up there, piling on the speed.

I sit up to enjoy the ride, only to face freezing wind whistling past my bright pink ears and making my eyes water. Talking of whistling past, we’re slicing through the snow at such a rate that wolves and bears scatter around us, veering out of the cart’s headlong flight as we plough through their midst. Teeth snap in anger as we scrape the side of a wolf and I only just snatch my fingers clear in time.

“Not my fault,” I holler, pointing at the mad pilot above. “Blame him.”

I have to admit it’s fun though, especially when I spot my limping wolf runner looming ahead and we’re catching up fast. A naughty thought bypasses my brain and goes straight to my fingers. As we rush up beside him, I lean out of the side of the cart and pat him on the head, cooing, “There’s a good boy.” When his face turns towards me, I wish I hadn’t joked. His tongue hangs loose as he fights to breathe, saliva spraying the snow, sweat dripping off his coat. The tension in his jaw and eyes give a clear sign - keeping up this pace is agony.

As we fly past, heading for the leaders, I look back to see Curt’s gaze fixed on me. If Wings could hear me, or take any notice, I would ask him to stop, but the wolf wouldn’t thank me for my pity. I turn my head forward, just in time to avoid being decapitated by a low hanging branch as we hurtle into the treeline.

I keep an eye out for Curt’s log cabin, but we seem to be heading up the mountain in a different direction, since I don’t recognise this view at all. Not that there’s much to see in the darkness. I pull the collar of my coat up around my neck; it’s already feeling cooler up here, exposed to windchill, despite the thickening forest.

Wings weaves in and out of taller trees and flies directly above smaller ones, putting the cart through a stomach churning slalom course. I park my backside on the cushioning clothes and hang onto the side to avoid being catapulted into the snow. Only my eyes are visible to Dulcis and Alpha, side by side, as we draw level. She lets rip a howl of greeting, tail swishing back and forth as she sprints.

Only Adamo and Ursid run ahead, leading the packs on the route taken by the bears, earlier. After pounding relentlessly, they suddenly grind to a halt, growling back at the arriving packs. The cart glides to a stop and the guide rope drops from the sky, flopping into the snow. Wings lands gracefully beside the cart and fixes me with his beady eye.

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