A Lone Wolf

My breath misted white against the sombre, steely grey of the pre-dawn clouds as my naked skin glistened pale in the lingering moonlight. Trying to still the rapid gallop of my heart, I listened. Silence; worse than silence, it was the quiet of a presence remaining concealed. As I slowly picked up one frozen foot, I snapped my head to the left and saw the glowing eyes of my pursuer. Game over. I let my foot land with a crunch in the snow and my hands hung lifeless by my sides as I accepted my fate. There was no point in running, I couldn't outrun this. The eyes slowly came closer, the moon's rays touching on the shaggy, downy fur in front of me; grey, tipped with black, it was made to blend into the frozen wasteland around us. I moved my gaze to its vast paws, marvelling at how something this enormous could be so silent. It let out a huff and my gaze flicked back to its face, so clearly a predator with that narrow muzzle, I could see the tips of its canines, the mist of its breath. Why wasn't it over already? One giant paw held ready to move, it was just staring. With a soundless leap it sprang with teeth bared as those yellow eyes hurtled towards my face. *** I woke bolt upright soaked in a pool of sweat, heaving the air into my lungs with harsh, ragged gasps. My familiar room was still dark, the rays of the almost full moon streaming through my open window onto the pale blue carpet. I listened carefully; there was no movement in the house, thank god I hadn't screamed aloud. I threw myself back onto my bed with a groan. This was the fifth night having this same nightmare. I glanced at the neon hands of my alarm clock: 3:33am again. Always the same time. I grabbed my drink from the nightstand and chugged it down to ease the burning in my throat and lungs, the soreness in my muscles feeling like I'd been running hard. I swung my legs out of the bed, throwing my quilt to the side as I padded over to my window, shivering in the cool of the night air, I gazed at the moon; it was exceptionally bright tonight, illuminating the clouds in dark purples and blues. The trees of the graveyard opposite my window whispered in the slight breeze and a tawny owl hooted for her mate. If I listened carefully I could hear the sound of breaking waves in the distance. The street lights had long since been turned off, leaving the skies crystal clear. Looking up at the stars, I thought about my dream. I was turning eighteen in two days time, an event I planned to celebrate with my friends in the local club. I was off to university in September and I still had the whole summer ahead of me; exams were finished and we were all foot loose and fancy free for three whole months. I smiled to myself; it was probably all the changes giving me weird dreams. For now, I should forget it and enjoy my summer of freedom, my mother always said I had an over active imagination. I padded back to bed and snuggled under my duvet, quickly falling into a dreamless slumber.