Darkness. I sat at the table with only a small candle lit, waiting for the wolves. The only smells that existed were the scent of sweet lemon and curiosity. What does it feel like to be patient? The only night I knew was one of impatience and wonder. What will they do when they arrive? What will I do? The moon showed down at me and the stars... well they didn't seem to dance like they used to.. nights before. And before that. But I liked it this way. As I sat there just wondering when they'd appear with their grey fur and bright viscous eyes, they did. Howling at my door, stood two lonely wolves. Instead of trying to chase me away and instead of the existence of growing hunger and scare, they had none. They seemed friendly and full of great warmth. Courageous and brave still, but not like any of the other's. It almost seemed as if they knew me. Like they could see right through me. Through all the hurt. Through all the grief. Here stood all the answers to my curiosity and wrongful beliefs. I was so focused on catching a wolf and studying it's "bad habits" and now that the study is right in front of me, I can see just how wrong I was. Wolves are more beautiful than humans will ever be. All we wanna do is kill and destroy things, when wolves just want to be understood. They want to shout to the world and let everyone know that they just want to be seen. Recognized. Not misread. Not judged. Not thought of as something they're not. One stood out to me. It was as if we had a connection. As I looked through him and he me, I asked myself "Are these the eyes of true innocence?" I began to get a little closer to him and started scratching my hands through his beautiful, calming fur. Who knew I'd get more comfort from a wolf than an actual human being? Wolves are read as such mean and scary creatures. Fables of the three fearful pigs and the big bad wolf who ruined their homes, the little red riding hood and the very hungry and sneaky wolf.
The wolves are always recognized as the monsters in stories. Antagonists. Well, here I was now with the smell of burnt wax and wisdom, as I have learned otherwise. We are the violent ones. We are the bad guys. I'm the big bad wolf. In search of something that isn't there. The wolf comforted me and laid beside my leather couch. In his eyes, I was a friend. And in mine, he was my shoulder. They are the humans. WE are the wolves.
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