Gwen came upon the wolf without warning, surprising them both. When he heard her, he jumped and began pulling at the chain attached to the trap around his leg. A low-throated growl paired with a pained high-pitched whine came from his throat. He looked sickly and thin. Gwen thought he looked like the ghost wolf her father used to describe to her in his nightly ghost stories to her. They stood facing each other for what seemed like a long time to Gwen. He was huge. His coat was all white. It must have once been silky and glossy, but now it was ragged and caked with mud. The wolf didn't growl or raise his hackles. Gwen sensed the wolf was at the end of his rope (well, his chain) and simply didn't care. He was too malnourished to work up a fight.
The wolf whimpered, then nuzzled at the trap that bit down on his leg. He stared at Gwen with his deep blue eyes. She could almost hear his gentle plea for help.
She dropped to her knees to be on the same level as the wolf. "You're the biggest wolf I've ever seen round here," she told him. He bowed his head.
She removed her picnic lunch from her bag and set it off to the side, then took out her pistol and put the beast down.
Maybe if Gwen's father hadn't traumatized her with those fucking ghost stories, she would have had more compassion for the local wildlife.
Opening: Freddie.....Continuation: anon.