Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

I stopped.

I fell to my knees.

Closed my eyes.

Fell back on the heels of my feet.

Turned my face toward the moon.

They sang.

And then it echoed away.

I took a breath.

Opened my eyes.

Before me stood the impossible.

A white wolf. Smatterings of black on its chest. Legs. Back.

Its eyes were red, flashing in the moonlight.

It was the size of a horse, its paws twice the size of my hands. Its snout was as long as my arm. There was a hint of teeth like spikes.

There was movement behind it, but I couldn’t look away.

The wolf walked toward me and I could not move.

“This is a dream,” I whispered. “Ah god. This is a dream.”

It stood before me. Lowered its head. Sniffed along my neck, slow, deliberate breaths that were hot against my skin. I thought I should be scared, but I couldn’t find a reason to be.

The wolf exhaled along my throat. My hair. My ear.

In my head, I heard whispers of OxPackOxSafeOxOxOx.

I knew that voice. Those voices. I knew them all.

I reached up. My hands slid into soft hair, grazing along the hide underneath.

And then, a cold splash of something like reality. “Ox!” a voice shouted from behind me.

The wolf growled over my shoulder. A warning.

“Oh fuck off, Thomas,” Gordo said. I could hear him coming up behind me. “You don’t know shit. The wards are holding.”

Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. “Thomas?” I sounded broken.

The wolf looked back down at me, eyes flashing red. It (he) pressed its (his) nose against my forehead and huffed. “My,” I choked out. “What big eyes—”

He bumped his snout against my head and I took that for what it was.

The wolf (Thomas Thomas Thomas) took a few steps back and sat down on his haunches. He towered over me, waiting. For what, I didn’t really know.

I stood slowly and I wondered if he was going to eat me. I hoped it would be quick.

The wolf (THOMAS THOMAS THOMAS) cocked his head at me.