Wild

By Aaron Abilene

A world where the predator animals are loud mouthed bullies and the prey animals fight back. The animals talk to humans.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Syphon Creative
• Release date: Apr 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224647774

Book preview

Wild

Aaron Abilene

Published by Syphon Creative, 2024.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

WILD

First edition. April 23, 2024.

Copyright © 2024 Aaron Abilene.

Written by Aaron Abilene.

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Aaron Abilene

Wild

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Also By Aaron Abilene

Wild

Written by Aaron Abilene

The sun hung like a golden medallion in the cerulean sky, casting a warm glow over the field where Nigel and Daisy frolicked. With each leap, their feet barely grazed the tops of wildflowers, sending a cascade of petals swirling into the air. Laughter bubbled from Daisy, a sound as clear and melodious as the brook they often visited to quench their thirst. Nigel's own chuckles mingled with hers, creating a harmonious symphony that seemed to dance with the light breeze.

They played tag amongst the blooms, Nigel feigning left then springing right, his nimble form barely touching the ground before he was airborne again. Daisy, her eyes sparkling with mirth, darted after him, her movements fluid and graceful. The colors of the flowers blurred into an impressionist's palette beneath them, yellows, purples, and reds merging into a vibrant tapestry. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy.

As Nigel executed a particularly high hop, his ears pricked at the faintest sound, out of place in this pastoral idyll. The laughter died on his lips, replaced by a sudden tension that stiffened his limbs mid-air. A rustle, soft yet deliberate, whispered through the leaves of the nearby thicket, cutting through the tranquility like the first chill of winter's breath.

Daisy, sensing the change in Nigel's demeanor, paused and turned toward him, her head tilted in question. Her eyes, wide with innocence, searched his face for reassurance, but what she found there was a seriousness that had not been present moments before. The playful sparkle that had danced within Nigel's gaze was now overshadowed by a sharp alertness, his body coiled and ready, every muscle taut with anticipation.

The rustling grew louder, more insistent, as if whatever lurked beyond the veil of greenery sensed the cessation of movement in the field. Nigel's instincts, honed by a lifetime spent navigating the dangers of their world, screamed at him to act. The sound, so seemingly innocuous, carried with it an omen of peril that could not be ignored.

In that heartbeat of stillness, as the birds above ceased their trilling and the field held its breath, Nigel knew that the peace they had cherished was about to be shattered.

Nigel's ears twitched, zeroing in on the discordant notes within the symphony of the forest. The rustle that had claimed his attention transformed into a harbinger of danger as his eyes, sharp as flint, caught the glint of eyes in the thicket—a cluster of predators, their lean bodies obscured by shadow and underbrush. The focused intent in their gazes cut through the distance, setting Nigel's nerves on edge.

Stay close, he murmured to Daisy, the usual mirth in his voice now edged with steel. Daisy nodded, her own merriment fading as she picked up on the urgency in his tone.

His mind raced, conjuring images of the stealthy hunters that moved with silent grace, their every sinew and muscle woven for the chase. The group was spread out, a net of death slowly closing in on unseen prey. Nigel knew that playful hops could swiftly turn into desperate leaps for life.

Behind there, he whispered, flicking his head toward a robust bush, its branches knotted and leaves dense enough to shield them from prying eyes. Daisy didn't hesitate, her trust in Nigel absolute as she followed the direction of his subtle command. His heart hammered in his chest, not with fear for himself but for Daisy, whose innocence made her all the more vulnerable.

With a quick glance to ensure no predator had marked their movement, Nigel bounded after Daisy, placing himself between her and the danger. He felt the brush of the bush against his fur, the bramble snagging him briefly as if warning him of the peril they narrowly evaded. The safety of the thicket was a small comfort, but it was all they had against the looming threat.

Quiet now, he breathed, the words barely leaving his lips as he settled next to Daisy, his body instinctively curved around hers. In the span of a few heartbeats, the joyous field had transformed into an arena where only the vigilant could claim tomorrow.

Nigel's gaze pierced through the lattice of leaves, tracking the sleek forms as they prowled the periphery. His ears twitched, straining to catch any telltale sound that might herald an imminent attack, but all he could hear was the thrumming of his own pulse in the tense silence.

From within the relative safety of the thicket, Nigel wrestled with a tempest of conflicting emotions. Every muscle in his lithe body tensed with the urge to leap out and confront the interlopers, to challenge their right to stalk Daisy and him. Yet, the rational part of his mind recoiled at the thought, well aware of the predators' superior strength and ferocity. He was no match for them in brute force, and the potential consequences of such recklessness sent a shiver down his spine. The images of losing, of leaving Daisy unprotected, were too grim to entertain.

He found himself walking a tightrope of indecision, a balance between the burning need to defend and the cold grip of fear that stayed his limbs. Each moment spent in hesitation was a moment in which the danger drew closer, and yet, Nigel felt paralyzed by the gravity of the choice before him.

Then, the stillness shattered like fragile glass under the weight of a low, rumbling growl. A shadow detached itself from the hedgerow, its coat a mottled pattern of browns and blacks that whispered of countless successful hunts. The wildcat, eyes like molten gold, advanced with a predator's confidence, each step silent and assured.

The beast paused mere paces from their hideaway, its nostrils flaring as it sampled the air, searching for the scent of fear and flesh. A hungry gleam kindled in its gaze, promising a swift and merciless end to those unfortunate enough to be caught.

Nigel felt his breath hitch, the primal urge to flee warring with the knowledge that any sudden movement could betray their presence. He dared not even glance at Daisy, fearing that the slightest shift would draw the wildcat's attention.

Time slowed, each second stretching into eternity as the wildcat's snout veered dangerously close to the bush that concealed them. Nigel could almost feel the heat of its breath, a hot whisper against the cool air of the evening. With every fiber of his being screaming for action, he remained a statue, a silent guardian poised on the edge of catastrophe.

Nigel's heart thundered, a relentless drumbeat against his ribs, reverberating through his very bones. Each pulse was a stark reminder of the peril that loomed over them, a shadow poised to snuff out their light. Still, as the wildcat prowled closer, something deep within Nigel stirred—a fierce resolve that blazed brighter than the fear.

Stay low, Daisy, he murmured without turning to her, his voice a mere breath against the leaves. Wait for my signal, then run straight for the Elderwood. Don't look back.

He could feel Daisy's gaze on him, wide and trusting, but there was no time for doubt. The desperation of the moment demanded action; hesitation would be their undoing.

With a silent prayer to the ancient spirits of the field, Nigel gently nudged a small stone with his foot, sending it skittering across the ground away from their hiding place. The wildcat's ears twitched, its body coiling with predatory interest as it tracked the sound.

Seizing the moment, Nigel scooped up a handful of pebbles and, with a deft flick of his wrist, scattered them in a wide arc behind the wildcat. The creature spun, bewildered by the sudden clatter that suggested prey in every direction.

Go now, Daisy! Nigel hissed, and she needed no further urging. With a burst of speed born of instinct, she darted out from the bush and sprinted towards the dense foliage of Elderwood, her lithe form a fleeting wisp among the wildflowers.

The wildcat, momentarily distracted, gave chase to the phantom noises, granting Daisy the precious seconds she needed. Nigel's heart soared with hope, yet he knew his own path to safety was far less certain. But for now, Daisy was safe, and that was all that mattered.

Nigel's muscles tensed as he watched Daisy disappear into the underbrush. His moment had come. With a sharp intake of breath, he burst from his cover in a spray of petals and darted across the field with surprising alacrity. The wildcat, its attention snapped from the scattering pebbles to this sudden display of movement, launched itself after him with a guttural growl that split the serenity of the meadow.

The chase was on.

Nigel's legs pounded against the soft earth, propelling him forward with swift, practiced bounds that belied his usually serene nature. He veered sharply to the left, then to the right, his movements as erratic as they were quick, aiming to confuse the predator long enough to put some distance between them.

He dove into the forest, where the dappled sunlight played tricks on the eyes and the dense foliage became both ally and obstacle. Here, Nigel's intimate knowledge of the woods became his greatest weapon. He slipped through narrow passages formed by twisted vines, passages that the bulkier wildcat struggled to navigate. The sound of snapping twigs and frustrated snarls told him his plan was working.

Ahead lay the Widow's Ravine, a treacherous split in the earth shrouded by overhanging ferns. Nigel skidded to a halt just before the edge and leapt with all his might. For a heart-stopping moment, he was airborne, then his feet hit the ground on the other side, sending up a puff of decaying leaves.

The wildcat, hot on his tail, hadn't anticipated the sudden drop and scrambled at the last second to avoid tumbling down into the darkness. Nigel didn't stop to see if it succeeded; he couldn't afford that luxury.

A fallen tree blocked his path, but Nigel embraced the challenge. With grace that would have made the woodland sprites envious, he sprinted up the incline of the trunk, propelled himself off the end, and rolled as he landed to absorb the impact without losing momentum. The wildcat, less adept at such acrobatics, took longer to find its way around the massive barrier.

He could not outrun the wildcat forever, but every second he kept it at bay was a victory for Daisy's safety. With his heart thundering in his ears, Nigel pushed onward, deeper into the tangled embrace of Elderwood, always one step ahead of the feral dance of death nipping at his heels.

Nigel's breath came in ragged gasps, each one tasting of damp earth and the sharp tang of fear. The wildcat was relentless, its low growls a constant reminder that death stalked him with silent, padded steps. His legs burned from exertion, yet Nigel pushed on, ducking under a thorny branch that he knew would slow his pursuer.

A glint of amber flashed between the trees—too close. Nigel veered sharply, nearly losing his footing on a moss-covered stone. He could hear the beast's powerful body crashing through the underbrush, always so terrifyingly near. With a burst of speed, Nigel darted into a narrow crevice between two ancient oaks, praying his slighter build would be his salvation.

The wildcat's frustrated snarl echoed as it attempted to follow, only to be hindered by the tight space. Nigel didn't pause, aware that the reprieve would be fleeting. Every twist and turn of the forest was etched into his memory, and he used every bit of that knowledge now, leading the predator on a maddening chase that twisted back upon itself like the serpentine roots of the gnarled trees.

Ahead, the dense foliage gave way to a clearing bathed in moonlight. Nigel risked a glance over his shoulder; the wildcat had extricated itself from the crevice and was gaining ground, its eyes reflecting the light like twin lanterns of doom.

With a desperate lunge, Nigel reached the clearing and sprinted across the open space. His heart pounded against his ribs, threatening to burst forth. The wildcat charged after him, its powerful limbs eating up the distance between them with terrifying ease.

Just as he cleared the opposite edge of the clearing, Nigel felt the whoosh of air as the wildcat lunged. He threw himself to the side, feeling the brush of death as claws swiped mere inches from his fur. Adrenaline surged, propelling him forward with renewed vigor.

Nigel's mind raced as fast as his feet, calculating, planning. Up ahead, the chorus of night insects grew louder, signaling the proximity of the others—the prey animals Daisy had joined. If he could just reach them, use their numbers as a distraction...

He burst through a final curtain of vines and there they were: rabbits, deer, and other small creatures huddled together, sensing the danger in their midst. Nigel skidded to a stop among them, causing a stir of panic. The wildcat emerged at the forest's edge, its lethal intent clear.

Run! Nigel barked, the command slicing through the tense air.

As the animals scattered in all directions, confusion reigned. The wildcat, caught off guard by the sudden explosion of movement, hesitated. That moment of indecision was all Nigel needed. With a last look at the chaos, he turned and bolted in the opposite direction, drawing the wildcat's ire once more.

The chase resumed, but this time, Nigel ran with a lightness in his step. Daisy was safe among the chaos, her chances of escape vastly improved. He had done what he set out to do, and now the wild woods of Elderwood enveloped him, a lone figure racing against the inevitability of nature's cruel game.

Nigel's lungs burned with the exertion of his flight, each breath a dagger in his chest as he pushed himself beyond his limits. The wildcat was relentless, its shadow stretching over the forest floor like an ominous specter. Nigel could hear the crunch of underbrush and the heavy paws pounding behind him, the rhythm a death knell to his desperate sprint.

With a forceful leap, he cleared a glistening brook, the splash of water singing a brief, serene melody amidst the cacophony of his escape. His heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to break free from its bony cage. The wildcat was not just a predator; it was the embodiment of his deepest fears, a challenge to his vow to protect those who could not protect themselves.

As the chase wore on, the forest began to change. Ancient trees gave way to younger saplings, the ground beneath his feet grew firmer, and the air carried a chill that hinted at the approach of Elderwood’s treacherous highlands. It was terrain unfamiliar to the wildcat, but equally so to Nigel.

He darted into a narrow crevice between two towering rocks, the space hardly wide enough for his slender frame. Claws scraped stone behind him as the wildcat attempted to follow, its frustrated snarls echoing through the night. For a moment, Nigel dared to hope, pressing further into the labyrinthine rock formations.

A sudden misstep sent him tumbling down a hidden decline, rolling end over end before coming to an abrupt stop at the edge of a precipice. His head spun, and when he looked up, the sight stole the breath from his already taxed lungs. Below lay a vast expanse of misty void, the bottom lost to darkness. Above, the moon hung like a silent witness to his plight.

The wildcat appeared at the top of the slope, its eyes gleaming with predatory triumph. Nigel backed away instinctively, his hind paws feeling the emptiness beckoning behind him. He had led the beast away from Daisy and the others, but now he stood alone, trapped between a fall to oblivion and the approaching jaws of death.

For a fleeting moment, Nigel’s thoughts flew to Daisy, her innocent eyes wide with wonder among the wildflowers. Would she remember him as a protector or merely as one who vanished into the shadows of Elderwood?

The chapter closed with Nigel, muscles coiled, ready to make his final stand. Eyes locked with the wildcat, he calculated the distance to the side, where a slim chance of escape awaited—a jagged path skirting the cliff's face. There, in the balance of fate, the tale paused, leaving whispers of what might come as Elderwood held its breath, waiting for the next move in this deadly dance.

Nigel’s whiskers twitched as a breeze, fragrant with the scent of clover and wildflowers, danced through the sun-dappled meadow. He moved with an unhurried grace, his soft brown fur glistening in patches of sunlight that filtered through the canopy of leaves overhead. Beside him, Daisy’s ears flicked contentedly as she found a particularly lush tuft of grass, her nose nudging into the earth as she grazed.

The world was a symphony of gentle sounds—the whispering sway of grass, the distant burble of a brook, and the harmonious chorus of birdsong. It was a peaceful morning, one that suggested nothing more than the simple joys of warmth on one’s back and the taste of fresh greenery. Nigel's eyes, a deep shade of hazel rimmed with cautious intelligence, scanned the meadow with an ease born of countless days just like this.

But peace is often a delicate veil over the chaos of nature, and it was abruptly pierced by a rustling in the underbrush—a sound out of tune with the meadow's melody. Nigel's relaxed posture vanished like mist in sunlight. His muscles tensed, the serenity in his gaze replaced by a sharp alertness that had kept him alive in a world that did not favor the unwary.

His ears, those twin radars attuned to the whispers of danger, rose high above his head, rotating towards the source of the disturbance. The gentle nibbling ceased, and the rhythm of his heart began a rapid staccato against his chest, each beat a drumroll of instinctual caution. Daisy, sensing the shift in her companion, lifted her head, her own ears mirroring Nigel's as they sought out the warning signs of a world that was no longer whispering, but hissing with potential peril.

In a blur of tawny fur and coiled muscle, the wildcat exploded from the underbrush with lethal grace. Sunlight flashed off outstretched claws, unsheathed and ready to rend flesh from bone. Its eyes, orbs of molten gold, locked onto its prey with a cold, calculating gleam that spoke of countless hunts, of life and death measured in the span of heartbeats.

Nigel's mind reeled as the predator's form cut through the air, an arrow loosed from nature's bow, aimed with unerring precision. The wildcat's presence was a brutal intrusion into their idyll, a vivid streak of terror that painted the meadow in strokes of fear. Time seemed to fracture, moments splintering as the scene before him unfolded with the inevitability of a nightmare given form.

With a sound that would haunt the quiet spaces of his memory, the wildcat met Daisy. Its claws sang a terrible aria as they tore through her fur, the notes sharp and wet against the hush of the meadow. Nigel felt something within him give way—shock, disbelief, the very foundations of his understanding of the world crumbling as he watched his companion, always so vibrant, become the canvas for violence. The sickening symphony of Daisy's pain and the wildcat's predatory zeal etched itself into the tableau of the once peaceful glade, marking it as a place where innocence could be shattered in an instant.

Nigel's muscles coiled beneath his fur, a spring wound tight with terror and fury. With no thought but Daisy's safety screaming through his veins, he propelled himself towards the tangle of claws and desperation. His hind legs, powered by instinct, sent him hurtling across the meadow in a blur of brown and white.

Yield! he barked, a wordless challenge that broke from his throat in a guttural cry. He aimed for the wildcat's flank, his teeth bared, aiming to bite, to claw, to do anything that might draw the beast's attention away from Daisy.

The wildcat, a creature attuned to the savagery of survival, barely registered Nigel's assault. It was a fleeting distraction, an annoyance that it swatted away with a casual flick of its massive paw. Nigel felt the impact like a blow from the earth itself; it sent him tumbling head over paws, away from Daisy, away from the feral dance of death unfolding before him.

He lay there for a heartbeat, dazed, the taste of dirt and defeat bitter on his tongue. He watched, helplessly, as