GROWL

‘Is there anybody here?’ My voice sounds shrill in the dark.

The only answer is the rush of my own heartbeat.

Fear steals through me, cold and shivery.

There it is again. A tiny whimpering noise; almost like a … a kitten. That’s what I tell myself anyway, forcing myself to think of the least scary thing I can imagine. For a second I hesitate, blinking in the darkness, then I hurry back towards the mouth of the cave. But my foot catches on a sticky-uppy rock and I fall hard, flinging my hands out to save myself.

My palms sting as they slap the stony floor and my breath’s all knocked out of me. I sit up, struggling to breathe. I touch my knee: sticky, it’s bleeding. The cave water trickles; it sounds almost like a little giggle, laughing at me in the blackness. I put my hand on my chest and take deep breaths, trying to calm myself.

From the depths of the cave I hear the whimpering sound again and suddenly I realise what it actually does sound like – it sounds just like …

‘… a baby?’ I whisper.

The boy’s baby sister. Mothga?

I stagger to my feet, wincing at the pain in my knee.

Then I hear something which turns my blood to ice. A growl, low and steady, and it’s close. I look up; a huge dog stands silhouetted in the cave entrance.

I hold my breath … maybe it’s just a nice friendly dog, like Nero.

The dog’s growl deepens. I swallow, thinking of all the wild animals I saw in the cave paintings: there were no nice friendly dogs in the Stone Age, were there? My breathing quickens. It’s not a dog; it’s a wolf.

The wolf pads into the cave. He lowers his huge body to the ground and slinks towards me, his growl deep and steady. I’m paralysed with fear but, even if I could move, the wolf’s blocking my escape. My breath comes back in quick bursts. I can’t get out! I can’t get out! I smell a metallic smell, like iron, like blood. The growl rises to a snarl and I glimpse the white of the wolf’s teeth in a lightning flash. I need to do something, run deeper into the cave maybe; see if there’s another way out.

The wolf stops snarling, throws back his head and howls. It’s so loud I can feel it reverberating in my bones; I cover my ears, burying my face in my arms.

‘Aloooo-ooooo-oooooone?’ he howls. But he isn’t. Because from all across the forest howls answer howls until the air almost ripples with it.

The wolf isn’t alone. I am.

I crouch on the floor, trying not cry, trying not to breathe, trying not to smell like food.

The wolf turns to stare out of the cave, sniffs the stormy air. His ears twitch. Maybe he hasn’t seen me after all. Maybe he’ll just go off to join the pack.