Looking back, Lan remembered his puppyhood,
when, not being fully grown, he had struggled
malnourished and cold through winter, in solitude
and left to his instincts. His mother had left him and
it was only a natural desire to survive that kept him
alive. And now that he was older, Lan was ready.
He was bigger, roughly five and a half feet long
and standing 30 inches at the shoulder. Huge fangs
protruded from his mouth, and he was possessor of
a magnificent, thick grey coat. Long hunts in the
summer had hardened his muscles, and his senses
had been heightened to a new level.
As Lan slipped between the trees, he was acutely
aware of everything around him. Every movement
and sound reached his pointed ear, every trail and
smell entered his sensitive nose. He knew that there
was a bird's nest twenty feet above his head, and
that to his direct right was a shrew's burrow, one
that had been dug recently, at some time in the last
two hours. Lan however, ran undetected through
this domain. Such was the way he moved, so softly
and furtively, that he was imperceptible, even to
animals looking for predators like him. He was a
shadow, moving death, and all animals feared his
agile attacks and the swiftness of his pounces. Lan
ran unchallenged his intelligence and alertness was
a cut above that of every forest dweller who crossed
his path.
And as Lan travelled uncontested through the
woods, he picked up the scent of a mammal, one he
was not familiar with. The scent was fresh, and Lan
followed it down a slope to a clearing in the trees.
Near the centre of the clearing he spied the animal,
making its way slowly towards the Ogilvie River. It
was a small animal, a third of the size of Lan, covered
in long and pointed white quills, contrasting with
its black body and pink underbelly. Lan sensed no
danger, but stalked cautiously up to the prickly beast;
positioning himself behind it, he tried to sink his
fangs into the animal's flesh. The weirdest sensation
followed. Instead, his fangs clicked together,
without penetrating flesh or muscle. Confused,
Lan went to bite again, but as his mouth closed on
the prey, he leapt back in pain and fright. The prey
had bristled, extending quills quickly and violently
outward, some of which had pierced the skin on his
muzzle. Lan growled in pain and suspicion. What
was this beast that had wounded him? He shook his
head violently, attempting to dislodge the quills and
relieve himself of the pain. The pain was bearable,
and Lan surveyed his attacker from a distance while
the pain subsided. He noticed that it had rolled into
a ball, radiating long sharp needles.
So Lan lay down, crouching comfortably above the
ground, a full foot away from his prey. And he waited.
But at the end of half an hour he arose, growled
wrathfully at the motionless ball, and trotted off. He
knew he was wasting his time.
Later on in the afternoon he stumbled upon a
ptarmigan. He leapt across the river and found
himself face to face with the bird, which was sitting
on a log. Each saw the other. The ptarmigan made a
startled rise, but he struck it with his paw, smashing
it back to earth, then pounced upon it, sinking his
long fangs into the great bird's neck. The encounter
had barely lasted ten seconds. Satisfied with the
kill, he began to eat, chewing through bones and
feathers in massive bites. Once done, Lan took a
moment's rest, before trotting the miles to his den.
Warmth, a full stomach and safety meant that Lan
slept very well.
The Sound of
Laughter
She is the sound of laughter when you're
not allowed to laugh,
And the parrot that always entertains.
She is that big, fluffy bed you sleep in after
a long day,
The sturdy hammer, knocking everything
into place.
She is torrential rain in the morning,
unexpected and interesting,
The mandarin fish that swims between the
corals.
She is a jack-in-the-box, forever amusing,
And a red panda, unusual and lucky to be
with.
She is the homely cottage that everyone
envies,
And pure rhodium, shining bright as the
sun.
Veronica Parr, Third Form
Academic
48