It was pitch black as the wolf waited along the outskirts of the small village. He would rest here often, completely hidden as he listened to the oblivious men speak to each other. At this hour the men had long since gone to bed, but the danger of their fire-sticks was always present. If he made too much noise they would pour out of their homes like fire ants.

The wolf avoided all areas of light or movement and tested the air carefully before proceeding forward. The farmers had taken to hiding their livestock in the large barns at night. The wolf hated to approach so closely to any of the buildings, but he could almost taste the blood of the animals inside. He would need to do this carefully. He approached the smallest of the buildings that was also the most isolated. The split-level barn smelled strongly of grain. Three of the walls were built from stone. The front wall, however, contained two large doors for a wagon to pass through and was made entirely from wood. That would be his way in.

As he approached, he caught a whiff of the large, four-legged animals that the men called "horses." It was becoming easier to understand the men when they talked about the animals they labored to feed and protect. Lately, many of those words had begun to make sense to the wolf. It was different than when he interacted with the Master. That was more instinctual, more of the wordless communication between members of the pack. The sounds that the other men formed were difficult to separate and understand, but the wolf was learning.

The barn door was closed and barred by a heavy beam that had taken four men to put in place. Careful not to make a sound, the wolf grasped the mass of wood and lifted it clear. The action caused only soft scraping noises and a dull thump as he dropped the timber on the grassy ground. Then he silently lowered himself to all fours and nosed open the door. The wolf paused to listen. He heard the even breathing of a horse in the corner stall of the barn. He could smell no other creatures inside, save for a few small rats and the ever-present dung insects.

The wolf entered the barn as quietly as possible and padded across the hay-strewn floor. He began to stalk the chestnut-colored stallion that was asleep in the stall. It was a large animal, with powerful hooves and sharp teeth that the wolf had acutely learned to avoid. They were very difficult animals to take down when out in the open. Horses had often eluded him, detecting his scent and running away at a high speed. If he did get close to one it would lash out with tenacious defenses to deliver stunning bruises and deep lacerations—that the wolf remembered all too well. But this horse had nowhere to flee to and no warning of his approach.

The wolf was nearly ready to spring, carefully positioning himself between the stall and the open door of the barn. The nostrils of the horse flared and the white of his eyes widened in alarm. He had been discovered. The wolf lunged at the horse with open jaws. The horse moved quickly, spinning and kicking. At the last instant, the wolf was able to twist his body to avoid the kick, but at the cost of slamming head first into the stone wall of the barn. He was dazed momentarily as the horse reared and began stamping and kicking wildly. Shaking his head to clear it, the wolf scrambled, trying to avoid the deadly assault. The hooves slammed into the wolf's tail and leg. Blinding pain shot through him. Rage filled the wolf. How dare his prey challenge him?

He struck out with knife-like claws to destroy the offending horse leg. Rising to his hind legs, the wolf grappled with the stallion and began pushing it against the side of the stall. The horse screamed and foamed at the mouth as it struggled to escape, but the wolf pinned it stubbornly in place. He ignored the superficial bites and inflicted deeper ones into the exposed flank of the horse. The wooden stall cracked and splintered, giving way under the tremendous weight of the two animals.

With straining muscles, the wolf partially lifted the horse as they fell. He was able to tilt the heavy frame and land on top of the animal with a thunderous crash. The stallion thrashed on the ground desperately trying to rise, but the wolf ignored the injuries he had received and closed his jaws on the carotid artery of his prey. For long minutes, he held the neck of the horse down as it slowly died. His claws opened the warm stomach and chest of the animal, and he released his hold to consume the still beating heart.

The farmers burst in through the door a moment later. The light from their lanterns illuminated the damage done to the stall and the blood-spattered carcass of the stallion. They brought their fire-sticks to bear, but there was nothing else in the stall. The wolf had leaped straight upwards and he now clung to the rafters with a large beam supporting the weight of his legs. As the men approached the stall they did not immediately think to look up.

The wolf saw his way out through the trap door to the second loft above. He readied his muscles for the jump. The men finally raised their lights and pointed their weapons upward.

Before he could be exposed, the wolf crashed through the trap door. He raced along the threshing floor and smashed through the loft doors to fall two stories to the ground below. Shots of lead balls rang out just behind him as he made his frantic escape. The wolf sprinted back to the cover of the forest as the alarm was raised throughout the village.