i have heard them howling and echoing from the hillside; heard their ancient canine paws scratch the tired ground outside. they are organized, and their curling lips dribble hunger down the rough fronts of their scarred coats. their gray eyes drink the dark and icy steam rises from their mouths. noses wet with the blood of a previous kill, and yet they lack saeity. i want to ask, why me? i have nothing for you. but they keep enough distance that i cannot take them personally, not really, not now.
i want to pass this test.
i want to stave them off for good.
and yet the fire i feel in my face seems to draw them closer, and i wish it were not so.
what will my life be like now?
will i see my face again?
and if i have another face am i another person?
i miss me. wolves, please bring me back.
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