A Walk in the Woods

Part 2

She thinks about that day a lot. The day she met a wolf in the woods.

The same woods she finds herself drawn to at every opportunity she gets. Taking the alternate path brushing the edge of it on her way to school. And still, not a single sign of the mysterious werewolf or his piercing golden eyes.

Fall frosts over into winter.

And this winter has not been forgiving, much harsher than past years. She worries how he's managing. She guesses that food must be scarcer this time of year, maybe more now than ever before. Not to mention how cold it is out there. She assumes there are other wolves in his pack, right? Do they have younger pups with them? Her worry heightens.

What if they're freezing? Starving?! She can't let that happen.

She quickly starts gathering supplies for them. Shoving a couple of blankets into an oversized woven basket then piling any fruits and veggies they had in the house on top, along with a loaf of bread because her parents would probably let it go to waste anyways. It's better off going to someone who needs it.

She bundles up to leave, lifting the basket and heading out the door before her parents notice and question her. But as soon as she's out the door she stops.

How is she going to get this stuff to him? Do werewolves migrate for the winter like ducks? No, that's dumb. She internally scolds herself. But even if he is still around, she doesn't even know his name to call out to him!

She shakes off the doubts and just heads for the woods. When she reaches the edge, she sets the basket down. Standing upright and taking a moment to look around, hoping to catch some sign of movement in the barren, snowy wilderness. But there's not even a single bird singing at the top of the trees. It's eerily quiet.

A shiver runs down her spine, she figures because of the cold. Her arms wrap around herself for extra warmth, glancing from side-to-side in case she missed something but sighs when she still sees nothing. Turning on her heels, she makes the trek through the snow covered streets back home.

Under the protective gaze of brown eyes watching her leave.

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The next morning when she passes on her way to school, she watches for the basket, expecting to either see it untouched or ravaged by animals. When she finally spots the wicker, at first glance, it looks untouched as she'd expected. But as she gets closer, she realizes the food is gone.

She stops in her tracks, gasping before her feet are carrying her off the beaten path into the crunching snow.

As she gets closer, her eyes scan the area for clues. She wants to be sure it was actually the werewolves and not just an animal stealing the food. But the idea quickly leaves her thoughts when a little bundle of winter flowers is the first thing to catch her sight. The memory of a fanged smile calling her 'Little Flower' rang in her ears.

After staring at the delicate petals for a few long seconds, she gingerly picks up the stems and holds them to her chest before lifting her gaze to scan the scarcely covered trees in front of her. Hoping she'd spot the wolf she had dreams of seeing again but there's no sign of him.

It wasn't hard to tell though that it was definitely the wolves who'd taken the resources she'd left for them, several tracks of boot prints carved through the snow heading back into the woods as proof. One last scan across the snowy woods and she lets out a sigh. They're gone. But she holds her head high knowing she helped them. Even just a little bit.

She isn't too far from home yet, she can take the basket back to refill later and set back out. So, with flowers in one hand and the basket hoisted into the other, she makes the short hike back home. She tucks the basket out of sight in case her parents get home before her today and grabs a vase from under the sink, the perfect vessel to hold the gift she'd been left, and places it on the counter.