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He was running as fast as he could, but it felt like it was hopeless - he could hear it behind him, loping along, easily keeping pace.
Jean's breath was ragged in his chest, his throat felt raw from the cold air, but he pushed for a little more speed. It was just up the next hill - if he could make it. Safety!  Or at least a glimmer of hope.  If he made it to the top before being caught, there was the smallest of chances that his trap might actually work - but that was a very big "if".

The trap had taken minutes of planning and then days of sweat - digging out the pit that would now hopefully trap the wolf. 
The only missing element was the bait, and somehow it had ended up being him.  His idea, they had said, his responsibility.  Stupid, stupid, stupid!  Why did he have to come up with these hair-brained ideas without realising that the only way that it would go in his town was if he, always the odd one out, was the expendable one that would end up being that missing ingredient.

No time for mulling now though, his muscles screamed as he pushed up the hill.  In the back of his mind he wondered why the wolf was playing with him so, and maybe he could entertain him just long enough not to feel the actual teeth rip through his skin before he scampered over the narrow pathway across the pit.

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