Wolf of the Wild

Grawr

Don't hurt me! Wolf cried as he saw the wolf step into the clearing.

Hurt you? Why would I do that? The wolf tilted her head at Wolf. Wolf made a face like it was obvious- it was obvious.

Um. Because you're a wolf? Wolf expected her to understand. She didn't. It just made her more confused. "Because wolves are scary and eat dogs?" Wolf said, trying to explain things a bit clearer. Not only that her face didn't change into a sudden, 'I am a scary wolf that attacks and hurts dogs, riiight' expression; her face only showed more confusion than before.

"Wolves don't eat dogs- I don't eat dogs." The wolf thought earnestly. She met Wolf's gaze with grave eyes. How do I understand you? I mean, how do you understand me?

What do you mean? Can't I understand you just like I can understand the noisy dog next door? Wolf thought of the tiny terrier named Stroodle that lived in the moss-green box-home next door; he was always yapping about the weather and how he should be able to go off-leash because he's such an amazing dog. Wolf didn't like Stroodle. None of the dogs on the street did, at least.

No. The wolf thought frustrated. This is a language known by wolves not dogs. When I speak, I should only sound like snarls and growls to you. She explained, as if once she started speaking, Wolf would suddenly only understand growls and snarls from the words he'd just been saying aloud.

"Why?" He tested the sounds on his tongue. It felt normal, like he'd always been speaking the language, like mother tongue.

"No, no, no," she shook her head furiously. Stay calm Huckleberry you're just having a rough day, and imagining everything. Just finish finding the prey and go back to camp. "You're doing it all wrong! You're not supposed to know the language!"

"I'm not imagining anything. You're not imagining anything. What do you mean, I'm doing it wrong?"

"It's just- it's not normal for a dog to speak Wolf." She used the word wolf like it was everyday language- or, more accurately, a language used everyday. "Well- unless you're... a doggrawrroawrar..." the end of the wolf's sentence dissolved into a series of growls and roars. Maybe that's what he was supposed to hear. Whatever nonsense that was.

Wolf was paying attention to the conversation, but he couldn't help but notice the dashing white collar stripes across the wolf's chest. It looked so vibrant against the dark gray pelt she wore. There was another part of this special wolf that Wolf just couldn't take his eyes off, in fact, it was the first thing that he saw of her: her paws, all of her paws were a shade of light gray that contrasted off the rest of her fur. Her eyes were a deep shade of oak brown and her nose was a pitch of midnight black. When she opened her mouth to talk, Wolf could see two sets of gleaming cornsilk-white teeth, all sharp and ready to attack at any moment- that made Wolf extremely unsettled. This wolf had a rogue-pink tongue that flicked in and out of the cracks between her teeth.

Hello? "Hello? Are you still alive?" Wolf was jerked back into consciousness so suddenly that he forgot what they were talking about.

"Wha-t?"

She sighed. "I said that I should take you back to the pack just in case. Also, my name is Huckleberry. I think I never got your name."

"Wolf." He informed her. She sniggered at the name, which wasn't very nice. But Wolf could make an exception since she was actually a real wolf. A wolf talking to a dog named Wolf. Very funny, haha. But do you seriously make it that big of a deal? It's not like I chose the name. Yeesh.

Immediately, Huckleberry stopped laughing and cleared her throat. "Yes, yes. Very well said- Wolf." And she burst into another fit of giggles. What was so funny about it? Had she seriously never heard anything else in her entire life named Wolf? She cleared her throat a second time, "I should bring you back to camp."

"But-"

"Tut, tut, no arguing with a 'scary wolf that eats dogs'." She added the quote that Wolf had said from the start of the conversation.

"Fine." He grumbled. He trusted this wolf, even though they just met. But something told him that he did, and he listened to it.

He was going to meet the pack, but he couldn't refuse.

If they liked him, maybe he'd be safe; but if they didn't like him- well, he'd be dead.