1906 white fang jack london - pinkmonke - Pink Monkey

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rabbit. As he sank back with it between his teeth, he kept his eye
on the sapling. As before, it followed him back to earth.
He crouched down under the impending blow, his hair bristling,
but his teeth still keeping tight hold of the rabbit. But the blow did
not fall. The sapling remained bent above him. When he moved it
moved, and he growled at it through his clenched jaws; when he
remained still, it remained still, and he concluded it was safer to
continue remaining still. Yet the warm blood of the rabbit tasted
good in his mouth.
It was his mate who relieved him from the quandary in which he
found himself. She took the rabbit from him, and while the sapling
swayed and teetered threateningly above her she calmly gnawed
off the rabbit’s head. At once the sapling shot up, and after that
gave no more trouble, remaining in the decorous and
perpendicular position in which nature had intended it to grow.
Then, between them, the she-wolf and One Eye devoured the game
which the mysterious sapling had caught for them.
There were other runways and alleys where rabbits were hanging
in the air, and the wolf-pair prospected them all, the she-wolf
leading the way, old One Eye following and observant, learning
the method of robbing snares- a knowledge destined to stand him
in good stead in the days to come.