Her strong mother came and went in the darkness with warm, life-giving milk. Her father came too. He was bigger, darker and gentle, and smelled like the earth and wind. They were gone for long periods of time as She Wolf slept and her little bones grew.

She soon ventured out on stiff, stubby legs. The bright, cold world embraced her, the sun stung her watery, blue eyes and she shivered as a cold breeze fingered her blonde, downy fur. Love and protection swirled around her in a blur of fur and gently-touching noses.

She Wolf learned quickly of the swift nip and snap if she wandered too far from the den. Her babysitters were often the submissive ones, those not prone to hunt, who stayed to teach her games and tell her stories.

She didn’t notice it at first, amidst the flurry of smells and sounds, but one day his scent was gone. Sitting back on her haunches, she let out a wistful, high-pitched howl. She waited and waited, but there was no answer from her father.

Then her father’s father arrived. He brought food and terror and stood beside her mother. He was an old, angry, grey wolf. Two of his toes were missing; part of his ear was sliced half off; and there were bumps on his nose. He violently abused the wolf rules with a vengeance. He often drew blood, which was not normal for this quiet pack. She Wolf learned quickly the pain from the lash of his fangs. His strange actions confused her, and she ran and hid. She tried to stay small, but her bones continued to grow. Her blurry puppy vision began to clear as she grew up fast.

One day there was the smell of smoke, and two of the pack did not return. Another wolf came home limping. Her grandfather slashed at the wounded wolf as they fled. The pack trotted towards the far green mountains until they found a valley without the smell of smoke.

She Wolf’s blue eyes turned gold. Her fur was thick and she was lean, strong, and big for her age. Although the other wolves her age were still playing near the den, her grandfather took her hunting. She learned to excel so as not to be punished by his swift fangs. She ran behind the caribou that lagged behind the rest and swiftly sliced the tendons of an animal three or four times her size. Then she would stand back as her grandfather ate first, as she licked warm red blood from her body.

Her grandfather grew older and angrier, often drawing blood in the pack for no reason other than his own pain. Some of the young males sat beside She Wolf, sniffing her fur. Her grandfather would fly into a rage, and they were beaten down or chased from the pack.

One day She Wolf stood up to her Grandfather. Baring her perfect white teeth, anger bubbled up her throat, her blonde hair blew in the breeze, and the Alpha She Wolf danced in her yellow eyes. She leaped at him once and he jumped. He faced her and rose up to take her down. Glancing once at the stone-silenced pack, she turned tail down and ran.

He chased her ceremoniously and turned back to his pack, arrogant as if he had won. She Wolf heard her mother’s mournful howl but never looked back as she stretched out her long legs and headed toward the coming darkness.

She ran and ran through the many changes of the moon and seasons. Frozen lakes, deep rivers, golden meadows, jagged mountains and deep, damp forest floors all passed beneath her calloused pads. The beating of her heart and the steady rhythm of her breath was all she knew. Occasionally she crept past cabins. She learned the smell of the metal that hides beneath the snow and dirt and snaps as jaws of death; it reminded her of her grandfather, and so she ran.

She ate mice, carrion, whatever was easy in her path. She grew lean and rarely stopped. Once she came to a pack of Coyotes. They stretched and yawned and asked her to join them. She stood off as they cajoled and begged. At last, she laid down her mane and lifted her head, walking slowly, stiffly towards them. Immediately, they danced and laughed in their yippy, coyote tongue, jeering at her as she had believed the joke. She ran from their nips and drunkenness.

One day while lapping from a still, cold pond, she saw a magnificent animal reflected back at her. Jumping back, she snarled. As it snarled back, she ran, afraid to see if this mystical creature was following her.

From a rare nap, She Wolf awoke with the scent of earth and wind mixed with the darkness of her den from long ago. She turned to see her father. Old and crippled now, he nudged her gently. They walked slowly together through the deep, quiet woods. He showed her where he had been hiding and told her stories of his life. She listened. They sat and looked at the mountains and breathed the air together. Stretching, she laid her head on his bristled shoulder. She told him about Grandfather. Hanging his sad head, her father said nothing.

As She Wolf’s eyes became heavy, she lay down to sleep. When she awoke, her father was gone. She sat back and howled, listening to her echoes return to her. Her heart was warm and she walked slowly from the dark valley.

The sweet sound of birds and many rich noises of the forest spoke to her, just as her father had of simple, good things. She walked more and ran less, feeling her paws connecting to the ground. She felt the sun warming her fur and heart. She ran only to take down food she needed and then rested for days, enjoying the sounds and smells of the earth. She howled at times simply to hear herself. She stretched and jumped and played with sticks and she felt peace.

One day, a shadow from the forest moved beside her. She jumped, realizing it was another wolf. They walked together. They played and fought and made up, and lay down together. They made love and looked at themselves in each other’s wild eyes and knew they were one.

Soon others joined them. Eventually, she was heavy with new life. She snuggled in the soft, dirt darkness of the den and slept as others brought warm food to nurture her bones and life within her. In the dark, her partner smelled of the earth and wind. He would gently nudge her and then be gone.

One day, followed by four new beating hearts, she emerged on stiff, long legs into the daylight. Strong sunlight stung her golden eyes. Cold wind fingered her thick, blonde fur as she shivered. She stretched and yawned as love and protection moved around her in a blur of fur and gently-touching noses.

With long, strong strides, she hunted, played, and taught her young about survival. The wolf rules of this gentle pack were honored. Dim grandfather memories returned only when she licked the warm blood from her coat of new success. Quiet truth and the good earth scent of her father filled the breeze and her senses with peace.

She Wolf howled to hear her joy, and the others joined her. The harmony of their echoes filled their world as she felt warmth from the sun. And she knew she was never alone.