The Story of Fernando, pt. 2

There was a blur of legs and Stump saw his life unfurl before his eyes. The memories were vague at first. The warmth of his mother’s soft fur. The flavor of his first truffle. Sunlight on green grass. As he became older they became more complex. Old Master Rock training them to fight the enemies of their kind. The hint of fear in his sparring partner’s eyes and he tensed to lash out with his muscular hind leg. Pain. The smell of the stinging herbs his mother chewed to a pulp and smeared on his cuts. Fern being an incorrigible ass. The bees chasing them because Fern tried to steal their honey, not to eat, but to smear on Stump to get the bees to chase him anyway. Fern proudly declaring it a half success as he pulled a sting out of his ear. The day they left home. The sorrowful look on their mother’s face.
The sudden pain in his chest brought him back to reality, and then the wolves were past them. The leader of the pack fell to the ground heavily and rolled to a stop. The pack did not slow as it closed the hole and continued the chase. Fernando and Stump were sprawled out on the ground, covered in the dirt and loose grass kicked up by the charging wolves.
Fernando coughed. “That was a fucking bad plan.”
Stump merely groaned and rubbed the spot where the lead wolf’s ankle caught him in the ribs. Eventually he said, “Hey, we took down a wolf by ourselves.” He tried to smile optimistically but inside he was worried. He had panicked. He wasn’t supposed to panic, he was supposed to fight.
“He tripped over our feeble little bodies you dunce!” Fernando shouted, hobbling over to his still prone brother. “Did you really think that we could fight one wolf, much less an entire pack?”
“Well why’d ya follow me in?” Stump winced as he spoke.
“Shut up.”

Leader was surprised as he flew through the air. He knew he tripped on something. It was soft and small, and it wasn’t there a moment ago. Now Leader was flying. In the distance he could see Interceptor moving between their quarry and the cottonwood grove. Then he rotated and all he could see was the rush of the Chasers as the dashed past him, undaunted. Leader had a moment of pleasure as he considered the relentless nature of his pack.
Then he hit the ground. There was pain, dull with pinpricks of sharp as rocks and stiff plants dug into his side. The impact beat a cloud of dust out of the dry ground that clogged his nose and mouth. Leader lay on the ground for a moment to regain his bearings. He turned towards some small noises that were coming from where he tripped. Two more like his quarry were lying on the ground. They looked like they were arguing. Leader considered killing them both, but he could feel the pack getting farther away with every moment and they were not the quarry. Leader loped away.

“Now what do you suggest we do?”
“Iunno. Go back after them?”
“What did I just say about fucking bad plans?”
“Gotta try.”