The Runt | Microfiction

Wolf illustration - "The Runt" microfiction

Mama Wolf watches her pups as they roll around in the grass, nipping at one another’s ears and paws in giddy play. All but the runt, at least, who sits quietly away from his siblings.

“See?” whispers Mama Wolf. “He always separates himself. Wants to be closer to me. He’s too weak to keep up with the rest.”

Papa Wolf grumbles. “Small doesn’t mean weak, my love. There is time yet for him to become strong and powerful, even if he remains small in stature.”

“I hope so. I can’t bear the thought of taking him to the meadow and teaching him to hunt. He would be snatched up by hawk.”

Papa Wolf laughs. “You worry too much. Hawks rarely use the meadow, which is exactly why we use it – it’s rife with bunnies who are stupid enough to hide from the hawks in the hunting grounds of wolves.”


In the dead of night, while Mama Wolf, Papa Wolf, and their littles ones are asleep, the runt creeps out of the den and takes a quick stroll through the dark forest.

He reaches a tree which is marked with an X, and then he takes three steps to his right and four steps forward. He scrabbles at the ground and quickly unearths a Dictaphone.

The runt coughs softly to clear his throat, and then he begins to record.

“Day 47: Wolf adults remain unaware that I am a bunny. Crucial intelligence on hunting grounds has been obtained. The meadow is not safe.”

Stories That Sing

I write one new story each week inspired by a random song from my Spotify library. This week it was Run With The Wolves by The Prodigy.

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