The wolf circled him, its grey eyes fixed upon his own. He’d been hunting the beast for days, deep into the forest. Now, ankle deep in snow with his leg gushing life and a circle of elder wolves patiently watching, he realised this was no longer his rite of passage.
A rather late post today (but better than none at all!). I’ve been knocking this idea around for a while now and finally found the words to get it written. Its hard stuff stripping these stories down to just 50 words, deciding which bits are essential and which parts can go. I’ve never had to be so ruthless in my writing before (so this is probably the perfect exercise for me!). Until tomorrow!