“A cornered animal is just as dangerous as a wounded one.”

You always hear someone say this, whether in real life or in some media or book. You never expect to be in the situation yourself. I am both cornered and wounded, and I refuse to die today!

The first wolf came and jumped at me. I moved to the left to let it hit the tree before I kicked its side, knocking it away a bit.

The second jumped and made me use my arm to protect my face. It was painful, but I had to hold on.

I stabbed the beast in its side several times before using its body to knock back the one that had jumped at me before. The wolf had let go of my arm and struggled to stand.

The third wolf had been overseeing me. It took its chance to jump and latch its jaws onto the same arm I had used to protect my face. Its teeth sank deep into my flesh and began pulling at my arm.

I released a scream from the pain. The damn thing was trying to take my whole arm off! I repeatedly punched it in the snout before using the knife to stab it in the eye. It yelped in pain as I tore the blade out of the socket, causing the beast to let me go.

It howled a whine before I kicked it in the face to knock it down. Blood flowed from the new wound it bore.

Exhaustion was starting to get to me. Being weak already made this hard enough, but fending off these wolves was tiring. Seeing the two down on the ground struggling made me realize something.

One was missing.

I screamed. The missing wolf had managed to get behind me and latch onto my right leg; canines tore into my calf muscle.

I went down, and the wolf tried to bite into my neck, but I turned my body enough to get my hands to hold its mouth away.

The blasted thing was a lot stronger than I had hoped. I could feel it pushing back against me. My arms, especially the damaged ones, were tiring. I needed to end it quickly. I drove around with what strength I had left. I wasn’t going to die today.

I was struggling, the wolf’s jaws getting closer, and my arms began to waver in strength. By the grace of God, I managed to get a grip on its throat before pushing it off of me to my left.

Before it could get up, I was on it. Using my body weight to help keep it down while my good arm came around to wrap around its throat. It was thrashing, but I can’t let it go. If I do, I know I will die.

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Knowing the situation, I looked for my knife, feeling my resolve weaken, seeing as I had dropped the knife when this thing bit my leg. The blade was lying in the snow a foot away from me.

I felt the wolf try to wiggle out of my hold, which brought my attention back to it. I tightened up my arm around its neck and began to squeeze. This was the only way to keep this thing off of me.

Its struggles soon became frantic. They were suffocating under my grip on it. I didn’t relent and decided to finish the wolf off. There was a snap as I yanked my arm around the wolf’s neck back. The struggling stopped, and the body was limp.

Sighing, I let the body go before lying there for a second to catch my breath. I needed to get up and get moving. It was a struggle, considering the wound on my leg. Once I was up, I held my bleeding arm. I am lucky it didn’t dislocate. Things got me good. I wouldn’t be moving very far, but I am optimistic I can still walk with a limp. What I’m most worried about is if my previous wound had reopened during this brawl of beasts.

Turning my head, I noticed that the one wolf, who was missing an eye, was on its feet and looking at me warily. The other was curled up on the ground, bleeding from all the stab wounds placed on it. It will most likely die from blood loss.

The one-eyed wolf stared at me, and I decided to glare back at it. I roared at it, and the wolf stepped back with a whine. It then ran off to preserve its own life. I let out another sigh before limping over to grab my dropped knife.

I guess I’ll have a more interesting story for my grandkids when I get home. Imagine me, a fifty-year-old bastard fighting off hungry wolves while injured, like a silly fairy tale.

I could put those thoughts on hold; I needed to locate a safe, warm resting place. Additionally, I had to attend to my new injuries. There’s never a dull moment for me.

Limping as I began to walk, I pulled out the compass to determine the direction of the North. While it wouldn’t aid me in knowing my location, it could at least help me monitor where I’ve been.

I continued my walk-through. The ambient noises of the forest were disturbing to me. My condition worsened the longer I stayed out here without tending to my injuries.

My eyelids were growing heavy. My strength was fading. That fight took more out of me than I probably had. I can feel my right leg becoming numb. I don’t think I can walk anymore.

It was no surprise that I fell. My leg was bleeding, and the cold was not helping me. I’m not sure how long I have been trekking through this area. How foolish to think I would have made it out of here.

Huh, it’s just my luck to die out here without anyone knowing what happened. I still don’t know what happened to me before I ended up in this damn situation.

The cold was biting. I needed to find somewhere to start a fire.

Everything… was beginning to feel hopeless.

I find myself crawling, again, on the ground. There was something up ahead, but I can’t tell what. My vision was blurry, and I knew I wouldn’t stay conscious for long.

As I lay here, a memory came to mind. If I’m not mistaken, I saw myself driving in a Jeep Wrangler. As I went up the mountain, the road was cleared of snow and ice. But I wasn’t alone. The person next to me was my niece.

My niece. It was her birthday, and this was our annual trip. It was never to any specified place, somewhere I picked randomly.

But where did we go? I still can’t remember where we stayed or where we were before I fell.

And I don’t think I’ll get that chance. I’m sorry, Sonya. I can’t hold on…