Lykan Kouris

It was still early in the morning, with the first light of dawn just beginning to seep into the sky. Despite the lingering blanket of snow covering the ground, the sun shone brightly overhead, casting warm, golden rays that shimmered against the icy white. The loud chirping of birds filled the crisp air, their songs carrying through the quiet landscape.

Lykan stirred from his sleep inside his small, fur-pelt bed, wetting his chapped lips as he slowly woke. His wolf ears twitched atop his head, catching every faint sound around him. He let out a deep, contented stretch, groaning softly as he sat up with a gentle grunt, his tail straightening behind him in a relaxed manner.

His gaze drifted to the hand-made straw bin beside his resting place, noting with mild disappointment that it was empty. Rising carefully, he hunched over slightly, feeling the stiffness in his limbs as he moved toward his clothes. His hands reached out to grasp his navy blue coat and sturdy but worn-out black boots, slipping his arms into the warm, thick fabric and pulling his boots onto his cold, bare feet.

Lykan knew he needed to venture out for hunting—to find food, as he did every week. It was necessary for survival, after all. Stepping cautiously out of his cozy but small den, he let his hand slide down the rough frame of the entrance. His eyes settled on the snow-covered ground beneath his boots, and he shifted his weight uneasily.

He grimaced, Great, more snow., the snow made hunting more difficult. Less prey meant more hunger, and that was never good. Still, he pressed on. Suddenly, a shower of snowflakes fell from the trees overhead, descending onto him as he stood at the entrance of his den. His ears pulled back sharply, and he froze in place, instinctively pulling his head down as snow landed on his fur.

Quickly, he shook his head, trying to brush the cold wetness from his hair and shoulders. He shivered, his tail lowering between his legs—though not yet tucked—his body tense from the chill. After a few more violent shakes, he managed to rid himself of the snow, taking a deep breath to shake off his stress.

He reminded himself, "Gotta start the day right." Lykan sniffed the crisp air, using his sharp senses to pick up any signs of nearby prey. The scent of a rabbit caught his attention. His tail twitched with anticipation; rabbits were always a good catch.

He began to move silently through the snow, sniffing the air intermittently, clutching the edges of his coat to keep it from flapping in the cold wind. As he drew closer, he suddenly stopped, his body going still. There, tied to a short, thin post, was a rabbit - injured, trembling with fear.

Its nose twitched nervously, its eyes rolling slightly as its tiny heart pounded rapidly. Lykan winced at the sight. "Poor thing," he murmured softly, his lips pressing together as he looked over the trembling creature. A wave of pity washed over him, and his tail curled with concern.

He glanced around, wary of anyone nearby, then quickly moved forward. But in his rush and hunger, he failed to notice a trap hidden in the snow. Before he knew it, his leg was caught in a bear trap. He yelped loudly, stumbling and collapsing a few feet away from the helpless rabbit.

His stomach growled uncontrollably, and he whimpered, his eyes wide with shock and fear. His lips parted in nervous anticipation as he licked his lips, trembling. His ears flattened tightly against his skull, and his tail immediately tucked between his legs, unlike before.

He shifted uncomfortably, pain radiating from his ankle, blood smearing across the once white snow as he struggled to free himself. Grunting with effort, he jerked his injured leg, forcing it free from the trap's cruel teeth, which scraped and bit into his skin.

He yelped again, tears brimming in his eyes, but finally managed to pull his foot free. Without hesitation, he hurried away, leaving the rabbit behind - his own safety more important than the meal. He limped into the distance, leaning heavily on a nearby tree as he winced and clutched his injured ankle.

Sitting down heavily, he pressed his back against the rough bark, hitting his head gently against the wood in an attempt to distract himself from the pain. Just then, he heard a noise - someone was near. His head snapped up, and he looked around cautiously.

When he saw a person standing over him, he growled weakly, still distressed and hurting. "Do you mind?" he snapped sharply, his grip tightening around his ankle as he tried to muster some strength. He winced instantly, regretting how his grip tightened.