And so with time her suspicions bore fruit. The boy came to her one day when she was smoking her pipe. She could hear him walking from miles away, clumsy and unsure his footsteps sounded. She sat patiently. She had waited many years. A few more hours wouldn't hurt anyone. When he finally arrived the boy looked tired, but his eyes had a flame that made her feel young again. The thought of teaching this youth her ways, the ways of the Wolf, brought new energy to her bones. She would endure solitude no more. Since the death of the wolves who had raised her and taught her their magic she had felt an inconsolable loneliness that left her feeling the effects of time more acutely. Now, with this young man who had obviously come for her help, she felt as if she could uproot a tree with nothing save her hands. The boy stopped when he saw her. He was sweating heavily. His clothes were torn from being caught in the razor like branches and thickets that surround the same womans hut. His breath was beyond ragged, sucking air into his lungs as if he had just come in from a deep dive in the ocean. He was bleeding from various cuts on his chest, legs, arms, and head. She could tell he had come with purpose. Why else endure so much? The boy stopped for a moment, his hands on his his knees as he tried to calm his aching lungs. When he was ready he stood up. The woman said nothing, not wanting to sound unremarkable. Finally, he locked the flames in his eyes on hers and said something she felt was perfect.

"I've come for the She-Wolf."

#wolves #nature #mythology #magic #fantasy
© DannyA.