Patience
by pyrostinger

"You know, you can't stay up there forever."

The squirrel looked down at the wolf standing under her.  "Can so."

"Nuh-uh," the wolf replied.  "You're gonna hafta get down eventually.  You're gonna get hungry."

"Not for a while yet.  I just ate."

Suppressing a roil of annoyance that crossed his features, the wolf settled down, still looking up at his quarry, who seemed (of course) completely at home in the tree.  It was a fair day, slightly overcast, but not too cold or not too hot.  The tree the squrriel was trapped in still hadn't grown in it's spring buds.  The wolf wiggled himself again, getting comfortable.  Unlike some wolves he knew, he had patience, and he was prepared to wait.  

After a while, the squirrel set about washing herself.  Then she looked up at the tree and her surroundings, venturing up a little while and planning her avenue of escape.  There wasn't another tree for a while, so if she broke for it now...

She flinched as she heard the wolf get up, then hoped... but the wolf didn't go very far.  He seemed to be idly investigating some kind of smell or other, but his ears remained cocked in her direction.  She silently cursed at allowing herself to be led out into the open field.  And now she was conscious of a slight thirst that had developed in her, as well as the distressingly bare and dry tree.  To top it all off, she was starting to get antsy, scrabbling down from the top of the tree back to the branch.  This wasn't good.  

"You know," she said suddenly, "I bet you're getting thirsty."  Maybe... maybe it'll work...

"Well, you ate recently, I drank not too long ago, and there's some dew I can lick off the grass," the wolf said simply.  "I can keep.  But it must be a little dry on that tree, isn't it?"

The squirrel skittered from the end of the branch to closer to the trunk, scratching behind an ear.  "So what if it is?"

The wolf had settled down again with a grin, panting lightly.  "Means you're thirsty, not me.  I'm just fine."  

Judging by her nonresponse, the wolf knew he had her.  Eventually, she was going to get reckless, convince herself to break from the tree in order to get a drink.  But, he wasn't as impatient as those cats... he could wait.  He could wait.

Another hour passed, the sun dipping lower in the sky.  The squirrel, virtually parched at this point, looked worriedly at the sun, then the apparently sleeping wolf under her.  Her body was telling her to get a drink, and soon.  Maybe if she was very, very quiet...

Slowly, hoping that her claws weren't making too much noise, the squirrel slipped down the tree, inch by inch.  Cautious step followed cautious step, clinging to the tree for dear life, and pausing for a long time after each, staring at the wolf who gave no response.  Just... a little... bit... more...

As she neared the bottom of the tree, the wolf's eyes snapped open.  "Gotcha," he said.  

The squirrel made a break for it, heart pumping as she raced ahead of the wolf.  Her method of survival was making it to the tree cover not too far away.  She zigged and zagged on her way there, trying to throw off the wolf, but he was relentless, and closing.  She could hear and (maybe she was imagining this but) feel the canine's breath as he came closer... the trees were closer, but seemed to be shrinking, even as he cut away, then back, lungs fit to burst...!

And then...!

She was bowled over when the lupine's nose caught her square in the back, causing her to roll to a stop in front of a tree.  The wolf grinned at her, tail wagging.   

"You're it!" he said.  And scampered away, squirrel right behind him.