by Ayoub Khote
In the shadows around the pool of light, the old wolf lay wait. Eyes the hue of burnished gold watched silently as corded muscle tensed and relaxed under silver grey fur. He had learned the value of patience as he had grown older. Younglings liked to give chase to their prey as he used to, but knowing this particular morsel would be attracted to the light that broke through the canopy above, he had decided his old bones would benefit from a more intelligent hunt. He sat opposite the hole in the ground the rabbit had made a home in, where the light from above would add to the cloak of darkness surrounding him. His wait wasn’t long. The scent of the small animal reached across the intervening space. He fought the impulse to lick his lips, and remained deathly still, muscles tightened as his body prepared to pounce. The brown rabbit emerged from its sanctuary and sniffed the air tentatively, before foraging towards the light. It stopped at the edge of the pool, scanning cautiously. The wolf smiled inwardly; this little beast was a survivor too. The rabbit, deciding it was safe, moved into the circle of light, which seemed to brighten momentarily before becoming a silver flash that ended in darkness. The wolf cleared the light in one leap, and landed silently with the dead rabbit in his jaws. He carried it away to his den, for there were more mouths to feed than just his own.