He was back in his valley. The full moon had risen and he had been transformed again. He howled into the night sky, calling to his pack. There was an answering howl off in the distance and he ran toward the call. He glided over the terrain, darted in between the trees, and tore through the underbrush. He was free in ways that he could never be in his human form, freedom through movement and speed.
He rushed down the hillside, howling as he went. The responding call seemed farther off than it had been only a few moments ago. He ran toward the responding call. Any moment his pack would be with him and they would hunt. His heart was always light when he thought about being with his pack reveling in the simple joy of the hunt and the exhilaration of the kill.
He leapt over the small river that cut his valley in two. The water gurgled and bubbled over the rocks as it always had done. He stopped on the other side of the river and called out again. Something was wrong. This time the responding call was even further away. Why wasn’t his pack making their way towards him? He was their alpha and they should be coming toward him not going away. He made himself run even faster and lowered himself to all fours. He tore through the trees and breakneck speeds. Clipping the underbrush and pulling branches with him in his wake as he ran toward where the last call had emanated from.
He continued to run. He didn’t really notice that he was running west toward the ocean and right then he didn’t care. His mind seemed fixated on finding his pack and nothing else mattered. He called out again. His howl reverberated off the valley walls and the response was so faint he wasn’t sure he had heard it at all. He kept running. His mind was wildly thinking of every type of horrible scenario it could and even though he was running faster than he ever had before he was breaking out into a cold sweat.
He continued on in almost a complete panic. His legs were fear driven to move faster and faster. His pack had to be ok. Where were they? He called again and as he strained his ears to hear the response, he lost sight of the ground. The ground fell away from under him and as he fell down an impossibly long almost completely black drop he looked up and saw the old grey standing on the cliff edge looking down at him.
He awoke with a scream and knocked his head against the tree roof of his shelter. The pain stifled the fear induced yell and produced one of pain from his lips. The she-wolf raised her head in alarm with a slight whine. She almost sounded concerned.
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As he rubbed his head with his dirt covered hand he tried to hold on and remember the dream he had just had.
“It’s ok. I’m ok. Sorry about that. Just go back to sleep. Everything’s ok.”
She watched him and instead of lying back down she picked up the piece of denim she had been laying on, stood up, and moved to the other side of the shelter, with the higher roof and stood over him.
He watched her move around him, and he twisted to face her with his hand massaging his forehead. He looked at her, still in pain from bumping his head on this stupid tree trunk and watched her as she simply stood there watching him.
“Why do I get the feeling you have been watching over me for a lot longer than I think?” he said as he took his hand away from his head. The pain from the bump he had given himself was dissipating and would soon be nothing more than a mild nuisance. He looked into her golden eyes and not for the first time he saw intelligence. There was a depth to her eyes a sense that she understood everything that was going on around her.
He expected nothing less from a wolf. If she had been a dog than he would not see that intelligence in her eyes. Also, she was still a wild animal and one that while he was human could rip him to shreds with very little trouble. “I’m harder to kill than I look.”
Why did he just tell her that? She had made no motion towards him, no threatening gestures. She stood there watching him.
Outside the small shelter the storm continued. The rain hadn’t increased but it hadn’t slowed either. It would be night soon and he was content to stay here where it was dry and recover his energy from his exhausted body.
He rotated around into a sitting position facing her. She also sat down on her haunches and moved back towards the boulder, giving him a little bit more room.
“Do you have a name?” The she-wolf cocked her head to the side as if wondering why he would ask such a ridiculous question. “No, you’re right. That was a stupid question.”
They sat there for a time listening to the rain. The she-wolf was looking at him and though he knew that she was watching every move he made she was also paying attention to the storm and what was going on outside of the shelter.
He felt safe around her. Even though she was a wild animal she had led him here and she had followed him when he led her to this shelter. Trust was not easily given by wild animals but two companions traveling together, protecting each other was something he hadn’t ever really experienced. Sure, he had had friends back home. He was odd but he still had a few people who respected him and he liked being around, Brian, Nate, Dave and Corey. All those guys he hung out with, spent time with and shared jokes with. We were just a group of guys that hung out together. None of them knew to the extent that he had come to hate everything the human condition encompassed but those guys, even though they did share some of those base characteristics, weren’t as bad as the disease that American humanity had become.