The crimson-hued wolf stealthily tracked its quarry through the dense undergrowth, eventually reaching the deserted steel mill. Guided by the scent carried by the wind, it cautiously ventured through the abandoned industrial site, where nature was reclaiming its territory as factories closed down. Despite the rarity of red wolves in these northern parts for nearly a century, the encroaching wilderness offered new hunting grounds.
Slipping through a gap in the fence, the wolf pursued the scent into the steelworks and along the railway tracks. Amid towering blast furnaces and towering coke ovens, it sought its elusive target, aware of the challenges posed by this unfamiliar prey. Accustomed to hunting in packs, this lone predator now relied solely on its own cunning and agility, driven by the urgent need to provide for its dwindling litter.
With keen senses, the wolf scanned the surroundings, surveying a parking lot surrounded by a chain-link fence, a highway beyond, a pine forest to the left, and an abandoned neighborhood to the right. Yet, its prey remained elusive, and the success of this hunt held the key to the survival of its young.
A stroke of luck came when she caught a faint glimmer reflecting off a metallic surface in the neighborhood, darting between houses. Uncertain of its significance but lacking any other leads, she pressed on, passing through gates and weaving through fields, her white legs blending with the remnants of late March snow from the prolonged winter.
Silently navigating between abandoned yards, fences, and sheds, she observed the gradual decay of once-lived-in homes. Some bore signs of recent abandonment, while others remained frozen in time, adorned with political signs and children's toys. Following the scent trail through side streets and alleys, she feared her elusive prey had slipped away, her hunger growing more urgent with each passing moment.
Then, from the east, she heard the unmistakable sound of loud meowing, prompting her swift but cautious approach. Amidst the eerie stillness of the neighborhood, she focused on concealing her presence, allowing only the calls of her target to break the silence. Not long ago, this area thrived, sustained by the nearby steel mill, a beacon of industry that seemed eternal until its eventual decline.
After the bombs fell, an army convoy arrived, clad in hazmat suits, to evacuate the survivors from the radioactive aftermath. The devastation had rendered nearby Cincinnati to rubble, pushing the survivors westward with only the clothes on their backs. A second strike decimated any remaining infrastructure, leaving behind desolate refugee centers with no hope of immediate return.
Finding her prey, a large black and white cat, the wolf hesitated momentarily behind the bushes. With a final breath, she pounced from her hiding spot, swiftly dispatching the unsuspecting feline. Though doubts lingered about the sustainability of this new habitat, the successful hunt ensured her offspring's survival for the day.
As she made her way back to her hungry litter, she encountered another predator, a four-legged figure with bright copper fur. Their eyes locked, mirroring each other's intensity, and both creatures stood motionless, their jaws stained with blood.