Thrill of the Hunt
“Aaah-ooooooooooooh” A howl echoes throughout the valley and stretches over a distance that can be heard from several miles away. “Grrrrrr...”
It is January in the Yukon Territory of Canada, about 50 miles outside of Whitehorse. The terrain is mountainous and heavily covered by dark evergreen pines towering into canopies of pointy crowns that rise high above the rugged landscape. There are sporadic clearings where large beds of rock and boulders prevent any vegetation from growing, except for layers of stone covered lichen and patches of tall grasses jutting out between the rocks, here and there. Above, the sky is foreboding and filled with an accumulation of clouds that eagerly wait to burst forth into a wintery fury. Grey skies constantly loom overhead, as the sun rarely peeks out from behind its cloudy veil this time of the year. Blankets of snow cover the large boulders, the sparse blades of grasses, the small streams and crags, and even the pointed tops of the lofty evergreen pines. The finer details of the land lay hibernating beneath the snow; leaving behind only the grim remains of a cold and heartless world. This unforgiving wilderness remains to be untouched in its splendor, except for the destructive meddling of predator and prey.
At one of the clearings in the distance, next to a rocky outcropping stands a lonely Canadian elk, nuzzling in the snow and nibbling off the tips of the grass blades it uncovers with its snout. It is clearly separated from its herd as there are no other elk to be found. The elk takes a step forward to nuzzle out another hole in its search for food. A loud “uuurrrrhhhhh” echoes from its mouth, as the muscles in the beast’s front leg gives out causing it to lunge, uncontrollably, head first into a deep snow bank. “Aaah-ooooooooooooh,” another howl echoes throughout the valley and is accompanied by distant jeering and growling. The elk shakes its head, and then breathes heavily as it struggles to stand back up again. Halfway up the elk’s front leg a gray shard of metatarsal bone is protruding outward, through the globs of already congealed blood and matted fur surrounding the wound. Along the tips of the bone shard, ice cycles are forming, and frostbite is quickly setting in. Struggling and wringing, the elk awkwardly hobbles itself up to three legs, while barely allowing the injured leg to touch the ground.
On the far ridge a pack of wolves, about fifteen or so, is quickly converging together and forming up into a tight knit hunting party. Along with the sound of heavy panting and aggressive growling, a loud grinding from deep within their empty stomachs joins the primal chorus. The wolves’ eyes are solidly fixated upon the lonely elk hobbling in the far side of the clearing. “Grrrrooowww…” They start intently bounding through the thick blanket of snow and down the ridge with their eyes focused and their ears turned forward. One of the wolves towards the rear of the pack suddenly turns to a wolf running along beside it, and sinks its razor teeth into the other wolf’s neck and ear. A loud yelp and growl is released from the two wolves. Blood is dripping down the silvery gray fur, but the wolves immediately turn back to pursuing the elk and continue down the ridge.
The old Canadian elk draws its head towards the band of wolves quickly descending the distant ridge. It numbly turns and stumbles towards the spur and a steep, rocky ridge facing away from the rapidly approaching wolves. Wooshhh…Phllummpp the elk sprawls helplessly into the deep snow. The injured leg is trembling and twitching violently as the elk struggles to move towards the steep rocks ahead. “Uuurrrrhhhhh,” snow is kicked high into the air as the elk ratchets its hind legs to stand again. Splatters of bright red blood fall from the leg wound and draw lines in the snow. Slowly, but anxiously the elk stammers forward a step at a time; moving as quickly as its battered limbs will allow it.
The wind begins to blow and little shimmering snowflakes start to fall from the sky above. Near the bottom of the ridge, the wolves slow their pursuit as they skillfully negotiate the steep rocks and boulders which break out into the clearing. A sustained gust of wind howls its way along the valley, scraping layers of snowfall off the ground in a fit of rage. The injured elk staggers its way to a steep rock face along the nearby ridge. Snow is rapidly falling as the uproar of the blizzard intensifies. By using the remaining strength of its hind legs, the elk hurls it’s torso against the rock in its efforts to hoist itself onto the ledge above. The wind begins howling loudly at it reaches gale strength. With a death defying struggle, the elk shimmies onto the ledge above, and passes out in the wake of exhaustion; its back hooves freely dangling in the air. Snowflakes are thrust about into blinding whiteout ferocity. Contracting in rhythm, the wolves’ nostrils are filled with the scent of the elk’s blood as the pack bounds through the clearing. Snow and ice mixed in the air pummels against the elk and wolves at stinging speeds.
The wolves reach the rock face lining the ridge where the injured elk lay. In groups, the wolves leap upwards, nipping at the elk’s hooves dangling from the ledge above, and repeatedly fall back down again. Instantly, the nipping at its hooves brings the elk back to consciousness and it begins to stammer on its legs once more, almost free from the deadly grasp of the wolves’ teeth. The elk struggles to stand, but a chunk of rock breaks away from the side of the ledge and hits one of the wolves in the head, killing it instantly. Momentarily, the tightknit wolf pack breaks away from the falling rocks as the elk helplessly falls down with half its body leaning over the edge again. The elk frantically scrambles to pull itself back onto the ledge. One of the larger wolves tightly coils its body and takes a leap into the air, latching its jaws tightly around the rear limb of the elk. With paws dangling in the air, the wolf maintains a firm grip around the elk’s legs and gradually the elk slides off the side of the ledge and plummets to the ground. Both the wolf and the elk hit the ground with a thud that cannot be heard over the howling of the wind. Though injured, the elk desperately tries to stand up again, but a wolf jumps and latches onto its neck. The elk lets out a bellowing “uuurrraahh” as it kicks and bucks wildly; which throws the wolf against the rock face. In quick succession, the unrelenting wolves in the pack start lunging upon the elk in gangs of glaring teeth. The screaming, kicking, and bucking of the elk dies out as the wolves tear open the flesh and rip into the cavity of its hopeless body. With the passing of the elk’s life, the blizzard simultaneously breaks and gives way to a more peaceful demeanor.
In seemingly joyous celebration, the wolf that had latched onto the elk’s hind leg and brought about its certain fate, arches its back, opens its snout, and howls out a loud, echoing “Aaah-ooooooooooooh”. All of the wolves begin intently feasting on the elks limp carcass at the same time, as if cued by a quiet and mournful blessing that had been uttered before the dinner table of a family gathering.
* * *
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Muuuuuurrr… This sadly familiar alarm is heard at the nurse’s station, resonating through the halls of the ICU from a critical patient’s room. Fearing the worst, teams of nurses and doctors working in the area immediately stop what they’re doing, and rush towards the sound. They stumble into the room only to find a teenage girl bawling her eyes out and tightly wrapping her arms around the blanket covering the body of a middle-aged man. Sobbing, Sniffling. Tears are pouring down the sides of her cheeks and collecting into melancholy puddles in the depressions formed by the blanket.
The man lying on the bed, beneath the tear laden blanket looks withered away; his skin has a pale grey hue, and is pulled taught, prominently showing the definition of his bones. His hair has long been lost due to the chemotherapy and radiation treatments he endured. He seems peaceful and happy, as if he had just eaten a fully satisfying meal with his family; or perhaps, as if he finally hunted down some trophy elk he had been stalking in the wilds of Canada to proudly show to all his friends.
A junior physician removes a clipboard hanging at the end of the bed containing the patient’s records and notices a Do Not Resuscitate order stapled to the front. He shows the order to the rest of the medical team as a nurse walks over to the vitals monitor and flips off the switch in the back. “The time of death is 10:15pm” says the head doctor in the room. He walks over to the sobbing girl and gently puts his hand on her shoulder. She lashes back in a startled manner and says, “My dad. He… he… he… Sniffles. He fought so hard. It’s just not fair. I… I… Sniffle.”
–“I’m sorry about your loss. It’s going to be ok” interjects the doctor.
She replies, “No… No it’s not gonna be oh- ok. Sniffle, Sniffle. The cancer spr- spread too quickly. He fought bravely till the end, and there’s nothin’ we could do for em. It’s like, like the cancer ravaged through his body like a pack of wolves … Damn, it’s just not fair.”
“Aaah-ooooooooooooh” A howl echoes throughout the valley and stretches over a distance that can be heard from several miles away. “Grrrrrr...”
It is January in the Yukon Territory of Canada, about 50 miles outside of Whitehorse. The terrain is mountainous and heavily covered by dark evergreen pines towering into canopies of pointy crowns that rise high above the rugged landscape. There are sporadic clearings where large beds of rock and boulders prevent any vegetation from growing, except for layers of stone covered lichen and patches of tall grasses jutting out between the rocks, here and there. Above, the sky is foreboding and filled with an accumulation of clouds that eagerly wait to burst forth into a wintery fury. Grey skies constantly loom overhead, as the sun rarely peeks out from behind its cloudy veil this time of the year. Blankets of snow cover the large boulders, the sparse blades of grasses, the small streams and crags, and even the pointed tops of the lofty evergreen pines. The finer details of the land lay hibernating beneath the snow; leaving behind only the grim remains of a cold and heartless world. This unforgiving wilderness remains to be untouched in its splendor, except for the destructive meddling of predator and prey.
At one of the clearings in the distance, next to a rocky outcropping stands a lonely Canadian elk, nuzzling in the snow and nibbling off the tips of the grass blades it uncovers with its snout. It is clearly separated from its herd as there are no other elk to be found. The elk takes a step forward to nuzzle out another hole in its search for food. A loud “uuurrrrhhhhh” echoes from its mouth, as the muscles in the beast’s front leg gives out causing it to lunge, uncontrollably, head first into a deep snow bank. “Aaah-ooooooooooooh,” another howl echoes throughout the valley and is accompanied by distant jeering and growling. The elk shakes its head, and then breathes heavily as it struggles to stand back up again. Halfway up the elk’s front leg a gray shard of metatarsal bone is protruding outward, through the globs of already congealed blood and matted fur surrounding the wound. Along the tips of the bone shard, ice cycles are forming, and frostbite is quickly setting in. Struggling and wringing, the elk awkwardly hobbles itself up to three legs, while barely allowing the injured leg to touch the ground.
On the far ridge a pack of wolves, about fifteen or so, is quickly converging together and forming up into a tight knit hunting party. Along with the sound of heavy panting and aggressive growling, a loud grinding from deep within their empty stomachs joins the primal chorus. The wolves’ eyes are solidly fixated upon the lonely elk hobbling in the far side of the clearing. “Grrrrooowww…” They start intently bounding through the thick blanket of snow and down the ridge with their eyes focused and their ears turned forward. One of the wolves towards the rear of the pack suddenly turns to a wolf running along beside it, and sinks its razor teeth into the other wolf’s neck and ear. A loud yelp and growl is released from the two wolves. Blood is dripping down the silvery gray fur, but the wolves immediately turn back to pursuing the elk and continue down the ridge.
The old Canadian elk draws its head towards the band of wolves quickly descending the distant ridge. It numbly turns and stumbles towards the spur and a steep, rocky ridge facing away from the rapidly approaching wolves. Wooshhh…Phllummpp the elk sprawls helplessly into the deep snow. The injured leg is trembling and twitching violently as the elk struggles to move towards the steep rocks ahead. “Uuurrrrhhhhh,” snow is kicked high into the air as the elk ratchets its hind legs to stand again. Splatters of bright red blood fall from the leg wound and draw lines in the snow. Slowly, but anxiously the elk stammers forward a step at a time; moving as quickly as its battered limbs will allow it.
The wind begins to blow and little shimmering snowflakes start to fall from the sky above. Near the bottom of the ridge, the wolves slow their pursuit as they skillfully negotiate the steep rocks and boulders which break out into the clearing. A sustained gust of wind howls its way along the valley, scraping layers of snowfall off the ground in a fit of rage. The injured elk staggers its way to a steep rock face along the nearby ridge. Snow is rapidly falling as the uproar of the blizzard intensifies. By using the remaining strength of its hind legs, the elk hurls it’s torso against the rock in its efforts to hoist itself onto the ledge above. The wind begins howling loudly at it reaches gale strength. With a death defying struggle, the elk shimmies onto the ledge above, and passes out in the wake of exhaustion; its back hooves freely dangling in the air. Snowflakes are thrust about into blinding whiteout ferocity. Contracting in rhythm, the wolves’ nostrils are filled with the scent of the elk’s blood as the pack bounds through the clearing. Snow and ice mixed in the air pummels against the elk and wolves at stinging speeds.
The wolves reach the rock face lining the ridge where the injured elk lay. In groups, the wolves leap upwards, nipping at the elk’s hooves dangling from the ledge above, and repeatedly fall back down again. Instantly, the nipping at its hooves brings the elk back to consciousness and it begins to stammer on its legs once more, almost free from the deadly grasp of the wolves’ teeth. The elk struggles to stand, but a chunk of rock breaks away from the side of the ledge and hits one of the wolves in the head, killing it instantly. Momentarily, the tightknit wolf pack breaks away from the falling rocks as the elk helplessly falls down with half its body leaning over the edge again. The elk frantically scrambles to pull itself back onto the ledge. One of the larger wolves tightly coils its body and takes a leap into the air, latching its jaws tightly around the rear limb of the elk. With paws dangling in the air, the wolf maintains a firm grip around the elk’s legs and gradually the elk slides off the side of the ledge and plummets to the ground. Both the wolf and the elk hit the ground with a thud that cannot be heard over the howling of the wind. Though injured, the elk desperately tries to stand up again, but a wolf jumps and latches onto its neck. The elk lets out a bellowing “uuurrraahh” as it kicks and bucks wildly; which throws the wolf against the rock face. In quick succession, the unrelenting wolves in the pack start lunging upon the elk in gangs of glaring teeth. The screaming, kicking, and bucking of the elk dies out as the wolves tear open the flesh and rip into the cavity of its hopeless body. With the passing of the elk’s life, the blizzard simultaneously breaks and gives way to a more peaceful demeanor.
In seemingly joyous celebration, the wolf that had latched onto the elk’s hind leg and brought about its certain fate, arches its back, opens its snout, and howls out a loud, echoing “Aaah-ooooooooooooh”. All of the wolves begin intently feasting on the elks limp carcass at the same time, as if cued by a quiet and mournful blessing that had been uttered before the dinner table of a family gathering.
* * *
Beep… Beep… Beep… Beep… Muuuuuurrr… This sadly familiar alarm is heard at the nurse’s station, resonating through the halls of the ICU from a critical patient’s room. Fearing the worst, teams of nurses and doctors working in the area immediately stop what they’re doing, and rush towards the sound. They stumble into the room only to find a teenage girl bawling her eyes out and tightly wrapping her arms around the blanket covering the body of a middle-aged man. Sobbing, Sniffling. Tears are pouring down the sides of her cheeks and collecting into melancholy puddles in the depressions formed by the blanket.
The man lying on the bed, beneath the tear laden blanket looks withered away; his skin has a pale grey hue, and is pulled taught, prominently showing the definition of his bones. His hair has long been lost due to the chemotherapy and radiation treatments he endured. He seems peaceful and happy, as if he had just eaten a fully satisfying meal with his family; or perhaps, as if he finally hunted down some trophy elk he had been stalking in the wilds of Canada to proudly show to all his friends.
A junior physician removes a clipboard hanging at the end of the bed containing the patient’s records and notices a Do Not Resuscitate order stapled to the front. He shows the order to the rest of the medical team as a nurse walks over to the vitals monitor and flips off the switch in the back. “The time of death is 10:15pm” says the head doctor in the room. He walks over to the sobbing girl and gently puts his hand on her shoulder. She lashes back in a startled manner and says, “My dad. He… he… he… Sniffles. He fought so hard. It’s just not fair. I… I… Sniffle.”
–“I’m sorry about your loss. It’s going to be ok” interjects the doctor.
She replies, “No… No it’s not gonna be oh- ok. Sniffle, Sniffle. The cancer spr- spread too quickly. He fought bravely till the end, and there’s nothin’ we could do for em. It’s like, like the cancer ravaged through his body like a pack of wolves … Damn, it’s just not fair.”