• Tress flew past the black wolf as he ran, his heart pumping blood around his body, making his limbs seem stronger, faster, like they can do anything. The adrenaline rushing in his ears make his mind scream in delight. Running! There was nothing in this world like it. Nothing like the way the wind roared in his ears, how the rocks and boulders that he leapt over seemed effortless to avoid, the way that even the moonlight seemed to move out the animals way. Yes, he liked running very much. But something about this night seemed different.
    It was a summer night and the air just seemed too cold to be true. It had the scent of frozen fear. It lingered in the wolf’s senses. It trespassed on the tranquil calm that usually surrounded the forest, poisoning the air to make it fearful. And cold. A cold that seemed reluctant to leave.
    That’s when it hit the wolf. He could sense it, feel it, know it. It was… them.
    He turned, fast as bullet, and shot of in the other direction. He had to see for himself if he was right. Because if he was, well, he might not have much time to see things after that.
    He ran as fast as his body would allow him, avoiding the tress as easily as if he was on ice, skidding round the corners with a graceful ease. He wove his way through the intricate maze of trees that was his home. And he didn’t stop. Even when he reach the large dip of rocks near the centre of the forest he just leapt over them, not even giving himself time to land before he was of again.
    He didn’t really know where he was going. He used his senses to guide him. His sense of cold. And the sense of fear.
    Fear. It was the sense that shone through the rest of them. It yelled at his brain, telling it to turn his body around, flee from the mordacity that lay in front of him. It was pure willpower and the fact that he knew that – if he stopped running – there wouldn’t be time for many other things. He knew what would happen if the things that he sensed lay waste to the forest. And they might not stop there. The world could be next. The world… in eternal fear… scary.
    Then the fear became a flame, a flame that drove its way into his heart like a knife. It made his heart flutter, his stomach turn and his black eyes dart widely around him. Every noise frightened him, every movement made him jump. His fur was standing to attention and his mind was screaming, now not from delight but from pure fear of what was coming. Pure, untainted fear. It wasn’t the kind of fear that was present but you couldn’t hide it. Not behind a smile, not behind a song, not behind anything. No, this fear fought to be his forethought, his main idea. His mind was now made up with fear.
    But yet he didn’t stop. The fear made him slow down though. His legs became weary and common sense was saying that it would be a very good to turn back and run as far away from the things as he can. For things that can make that much fear present in one being was not something to be meddled with.
    Yet that didn’t matter to him. He shoved common sense out of the way and just concentrated on hope and love instead. Yes, this was the right thing to do. And all this fear was good. It meant that he was getting close to the demons he was after
    Sure enough he arrived at a clearing and the fear made him shrink back into himself. Made his paws instinctively cover his face, made his ears flatten to the back of his head, made his body turn, want to run, want to flee, want to… NO! He must not give into the monsters in front of him, even if every rational thought told him that it was be the brightest thing to do.
    That’s when they turned. They realised that the wolf was not going anywhere, even if they put out the best fear they could. Every nightmare that haunted your dreams, every phobia that you hid, every time you couldn’t do something because your heart was beating so violently in your chest that you felt like your ribs would snap. That’s what they sent at the wolf, but still he did not move.
    But he felt it. Clenching at his heart, messing up his mind, bringing every frightening memory to the front of his brain and not letting it go. But still he made no attempt to run, and that frightened them even more than any fear they let out.
    The things feasted on fear, they lived on it. They breathed out as much as they breathed in and to see a being, no matter whether its human or animal, standing there with no intention of going anywhere, despite the fear that wrapped him like a blanket, was frightening.
    And the wolf knew this. So he sent out his own emotions. Love. Hope. Happiness. Joy. Every good feeling that was inside his heart he sent running out into the air, knowing for well that the creatures would find it mingling with their own fear that they themselves tried to send at him. And although the fear got there, it was nothing compared to the other memories and emotions that he forced out into the open.
    Then it became too much. They faded. The cold evaporating as if it was never there. The fear disappeared from the wolfs mind. It was absorbed from his body as fast as it had appeared, to be replaced by the usual calm and joy.
    The wolf fell. It let the freshly warm wind wash over his previously freezing body, and relaxed. He was safe, the fear was gone, they were gone, and everything was normal. Well, at least as normal as it had been before.