The beast ran as quickly as his newborn legs could carry him. He moved through the forest naturally, smoothly. Everything fell into place around him as if he were running through a specially molded glove, made just for him. The air itself seemed to part as his eager feat carried him forward.

All around him he could hear the sounds of nature as he listened with newborn werewolf ears. The scuttling of rodents, the scurrying of insects, the flapping of a birds wings high above.

But beyond these sounds there was another ring of noise that he could hear, just off the corner of his consciousness. The sound of people; angry people. And they were moving quickly. They were encircling him.

He could hear their cruel machines, their cars, their tanks, their motorcycles, as they sped through the forest, destroying everything in their path, and matching his preternatural bounds leap for leap.

He had only just changed a few nights before. He still wasn’t sure on his new feat. Occasionally he would miss a step, fall, but then quickly recover, pulling himself back into that same rhythm, that beat of nature which now filled his consciousness.

As the ring of human slayers closed tighter, the werewolf moved faster, bursting with energy, the easy strides now becoming fierce leaps, moving forward with every ounce of his strength.

But the humans and their cruel machines were inexorable. They kept coming, kept moving, never tripping or falling.

It was in this moment that the young wolf knew that he was lost/ He knew that not only was he lost, but his entire kind would soon be gone.

A moment of regret flooded him. He would not have much time to enjoy his new found gifts. They were getting too close now.

So he enjoyed his last moments. Breathed in the fresh forest air, tasted the deeper flavor of life, sucked the very marrow of the earth.

Then he turned, throwing himself into the line of soldiers that was threatening to close around him.

He immediately crashed into a motorcycle, leaping over the vehicle, and bringing its rider down. Two armored cars stopped, training their cannons on him, but he met the threat straight on, hiding from the one cannons fire by sliding behind the other.

Then a small group of foot soldiers caught up. They raised their weapons to fire but he was already on them, clawing and flailing wildly. That’s when the first armored car fired, missing the wolf, but sending a scattering of shrapnel flying into their own troops.

A moment passed and the wolf ran. He ran faster and faster into the woods, he ran until the sound of the humans receded behind him, and he was out, away, finally free of that evil encircling ring of mortals.

Freedom, he moved. Freedom, he breathed, sucking in the possibilities. Freedom, exhilaration, and hope.