Legend of the Ice Box Wolf by Llewellyn A. J

Author:Llewellyn A. J. [Llewellyn A. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

The entity they called the Golden Wolf didn’t think of himself as some kind of legend. In his mind, he was a mixed-race individual in search of a home. Wolf or man, in either form he’d become quite comfortable in Icebox Canyon, living in a cave most of the year and in the basement of an abandoned house when the mood struck him. Lately, he’d spent more and more time in the house during the coldest of the winter months. He’d lived this way for years, existing on what he could find growing in the ground and whatever creatures he could catch and kill by night.

He’d become adept at relying on little food, needing blood only before the full moon each month. He’d been used to long silences and his own companionship for so long he was shocked when new activity disrupted his serenity, and a noisy pack of werewolves moved into his secret hiding place. They brought with them animals. Many, many animals. He’d escaped from the basement into the underground tunnels, feeling safe until the weres started using these narrow paths to bring things from another place.

One night, undetected, he’d followed a few of them all the way to Palm Springs and the Timtuk Canyon Ranch. He’d liked the place and decided it would make the perfect home, but he couldn’t move in until all of the current residents had gone.

He’d thought of the new animals at Icebox Canyon as food. A smorgasbord, in fact.

But he also sensed the heavy protections, the one who called himself Jones, had placed on the house and its borders, and all those that lived there. The Golden Wolf couldn’t touch the creatures now living on the property unless they strayed from its confines. And if he were to help loosen some fence palings to expedite such actions? All’s fair in love and war.

He was starved and had been without proper sustenance for so long. The smell and sound of all those animals awakened his basic instincts. He no longer wished to deprive himself. Why should he? The stirrings of all his senses seemed to revive his inner predator. He’d forgotten how long he’d lived on scraps. Now he sensed Timtuk would soon be abandoned. Jones had done a good job of blocking the property from the hearts and minds of humans—apporters included—but his magic couldn’t touch the Golden Wolf.

He was a strong were, in spite of his haggard state and reduced circumstances. Late at night, he lay under the stars, hidden under the drooping fronds of a weeping willow. He was surprised such a tree existed in the desert. Jones had magical powers, indeed. But as he comforted himself in the soft grass, the Golden Wolf tried to remember why he’d gone into hiding. Why he’d punished himself for so long. It was maddening to have lost so much time, and the smell of food didn’t help matters.

Why, oh why had the Mojave Mountain wolves disturbed his long sabbatical? If only they’d left well enough alone.

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