Where the black sky touches the white snow I see movement. A grey wolf. He pushes through the snow, watching me wearily. Harsh winds blow from the north, sculpting this frozen tundra. All life here is waiting, holding its breath for spring to come, for longer days whose sunlight will coax forth new life.
This wolf is oblivious to its patience. Oblivious to the freezing snow that fails to his dense winter fur. Determination alone drives him forward, on and on through the snow.
I can see now that he is not as small as he seemed from a distance. This wolf stands as tall as a horse, his nose level with my forehead. He is but a meter away from me, watching me with those forever vigilant eyes. I am as frozen as the ground beneath me, but with fear not cold. I show none of this on my face or body, I stand tall and keep my expression relaxed.
"Friend," I call, for I am no of nature. The wolf tilts his head back and howls. Wind throws the snow around in a tantrum and the wolf gets lost in its fury. His spine-tingling howl echo's in my mind but the lone wolf is gone and without him I am lost.
I know at once that this is no dream, I have never felt more awake than now, more alert, more cold. But a wolf that size can't be possible. There was nothing more impossible than the lone wolf. But I know he exists.... And on he pushes.
With nothing to lose, and so much to gain, he pushes onward.he see's water he didn't see good he know he was fulling.he pass out!he seen yellow eyes in the bushes. wolfs pop out the lone wolf was trying hard.he's heart was going fast.it stops.inside it was glowing he seen god helping him.god said come with him to heaven.he know it was his time to go.
