The first thing Elrik saw when he turned the corner were two glowing orbs in the darkness.

Ah. Shit.

Elrik froze where he stood.

In the darkness, the growl started low and subsonic. It slowly climbed in pitch. Elrik’s stomach flipped. His heart was suddenly hammering in his ears and he could hear the dull whoosh of his blood roaring.

Elrik had always liked dogs. Dogs were sweet and expressive and there was something so very gentle about every dog Elrik had ever met. It was very hard to not like dogs.

This was not a dog.

This... unmistakably - was a wolf.

It's white fangs were bared in the dim light, and the growl intensified.

[Wolves typically attack larger prey at their flanks or shoulders. The strategy is to inflict injury by making large gashes in the muscle, and to slow the prey by staying attached.]

Elrik's hand reached and fumbled. Very, very slowly he put his hand on the shortsword's hilt, where it sat, strapped to his leg. Slowly, painfully, with as few sudden moves as he could manage, he drew the blade from it's sheathe and held it up in front of himself.

Elrik tried to control his breathing.

Inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth

Suddenly he was very, very sure this wasn’t a dream. The copious adrenaline slamming through him made this feel like this was the most real moment of his entire life. His heart was beating like a wardrum in his chest.

Slowly he took a step back. He held the sword steady before him, gripping so tight it felt his hand would spasm any second now.

He took another step back, still keeping the blade ready.

The wolf seemed to be letting him back away.

Maybe, if he could just back a little further away, he could make a run for it.. It didn’t seem to be attacking him just yet.

[Wolves like to test their prey, sensing any weakness]

Bit by bit, memories spent over a lazy schoolboy afternoon, watching a wolf documentary on the Nature channel came back to him in vivid detail.

Elrik felt behind him, for the passageway he'd taken to come here..

Maybe he could run?

[Unlike ambush predators that rely on the element of surprise, wolves are endurance predators. They chase their prey, often over longer distances, in order to find the right animal or opportunity.]

No.. Scratch that, trying to outrun a wolf seemed like possibly the most idiotic idea imaginable.

Elrik adjusted his grip on the shortsword and stood his ground. His eyes could see better in the dark now.

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The wolf started advancing towards him, with slow deliberate steps. Its hackles were up and its shoulders hunched.

His best bet was to slash at it when it rushed him.

In the air cool air of the cave the sudden sweat down his back felt like a drop ice running down his spine. He could feel his death here in this dark, damp little cave. A quick, bloody little death. His stomach churned.

Elrik readied himself.

[When hunting large game, the wolf pack separates out and surrounds its prey. While some pack members approach the prey from the rear others keep it distracted.]

Just as that thought (and where had that thought even come from?) flashed through his brain, he felt it - in the hairs on his neck and at the edges of his hearing - the quiet scrabble of another set of paws quietly stepping behind him.

Elrik wheeled with a garbled shout, spinning on a heel and slashing his sword in a wide arc, backing away as he did it. A second wolf watched him now. Elrik's gaze switched rapidly from one to the other, the tip of his shortsword zigzagging in the air between them.

Neither seemed impressed by his swordplay.

Elrik kept backing up, slashing at the air, keeping them at bay. Then he felt the cave wall against his back.

The wolves just watched this display, patiently inching closer, maintaining their distance. They no longer growled.

They stood, quietly watching him, waiting.

After a minute, one of them carefully stepped closer.

For a second, Elrik’s brain went into overdrive.

[The simplest stalactite form, therefore, is a thin-walled stone straw. It is easily recognized by its shape and width. It is incredibly fragile and easy to break.]

Elrik bent down, his eyes still on the two wolves - and scrabbling for rocks with one hand. His blade, he kept pointed ahead with the other - like some talisman.

Then wolves both stepped closer.

Elrik hurriedly stuffed two rocks in his coat before he readied the third.

The wolves continued to approach. They were close enough that he could see the whites of their eyes now.

The first stone he threw, went an inch over the shoulder of the wolf that had crept up on him. The beast didn’t seem to notice, its ear barely twitching as the hefty piece of limestone went flying past it.

Both wolves continued to watch him, with careful gold-flecked eyes.

One of them seemed to be ready to leap, gathering itself on all fours.

“Grah!”

The second stone, Elrik threw as hard he could, with a shout, and it went high in the air. The wolves didn’t even seem to see it.

There was a loud thudding impact of the stone’s landing - then for a heartbeat, the three of them stood there - and Elrik held his breath.

There was a tinkling - like a glass chandelier in the wind - then a rising crash! Like a brick through a glass window into a china shop. Limestone stalactites dropped one after another - the sound of them breaking echoing through the quiet cave like glass fireworks. A stalactite cascade!

The wolves spun their heads, ears back and flat against their skulls - startled and scared by the sudden cacophony that seemed to keep going and going.

One piece of limestone, by sheer luck, caught the larger wolf on the snout. It gave a shrill yelp of confusion before jumping away, growling. It kept looking around, trying to escape from whatever was attacking it.

Elrik had waited for this moment. His last piece of limestone - the largest - flew from his hand. He’d held it ready, waiting for the moment the wolves would look away. The rock flew as hard as he could throw it and it caught the smaller wolf clean on the head. It gave a bark of pain, stunned.

Just as it spun its head to look back at Elrik, he leapt forward slashing with the blade like his life depended on it. The slash caught the wolf on its snout - drawing a shallow cut clean up to its ear. It yelped and jumped away, growling in pain.

Elrik advanced, while the animals were still disoriented, slashing and shouting. His heart hammering away in his chest. His every instinct told him to run, but knew his life right now depended on him seeming just a hair less like prey and more like an unknown threat.

The beasts tried to track him, teeth bared and growling, but the still falling stalactites had them bewildered, and they didn’t attack.

Elrik swung, and another lucky slash caught the larger wolf across the shoulders.

Finally, the two had had enough and with bark they set off, running from the open space and down another tunnel.

Elrik waited, watching for several minutes before slumping down, exhausted.

A bit of geology at the right time could save your life.