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Description
Convincing yourself to be calm is difficult in a situation such as this; my heart pounds frantically and my breathing is shallow and rapid and I know I know I know that panicking won't help, but each low growl and short yelp makes me jump, scaring me all over again. The bright eyes, reflecting the soft light of the moon, circle around me, drawing closer and closer, and I know before I even lay down that I've given up; curling up in the soft grass, nose-tickling and sweet scented, is a relief. I simply close my eyes and wait, not noticing how the growls become more like keens, sad and sharp, and paws pad slowly over only to curl around my shivering body. By then I'm asleep, and safe in the protection of what I thought would be the harbinger of my departure.

* * * *

I wake up joyful to the feeling of soft fur against my skin, laughing in delight as my family blinks open their sleepy eyes, stretching and barking to each other. Some come to me, nudging their noses into my pink flesh, snuffling my arms and face, licking me clean. A whole family of mothers, comically different and better than the one I left behind; I don't need a house, because the pack is my home. Slowly I stand, letting a guttural sound escape as I sssttreeeetch out my stiff limbs, reveling anew in the fact that I can do that, make any noise I want as loud as I want, without fear of judgement. After all, the only creatures that are around me all do the same.

It was fall when I left, and winter came and went; with the spring, we delight in the warm air and rebirth of all things. The world is our oyster, and we are the shiny pearl at the center. Once awake and aware, we prance around, pads of our feet dancing in the dirt, my own toes sinking deep into the cool soil while they play. Patient mothers entertain their pups, batting at them lightly with claws sheathed, rolling around in the meadow grasses, watching diligently (and amused, I know) when the tiny things explore flowers and bees and the outskirts of the land where we rested overnight.

Some of the pups even explore me, knocking me back to the ground so they can leap onto my stomach and sniff around a bit; most decide that I am one of them, maybe just bigger, a strange version of themselves that is here to keep them amused. Their rowdiness stops when Alpha calls though. Immediately, a silence falls, before we begin howling with him. The primal sound tears from my throat, singing a song I'm only just beginning to understand, along with the rest; I learn with the young ones, discovering new wonders all the time.

And now my favorite part: we run. The air doesn't resist us, but flows around our bodies, slipping its fingers through my hair and tousling their fur; the ground is firm under my browned feet, and I happily ignore the ache of rocks and sharp things digging in. I happily ignore anything less than pleasant, enjoying the comfort of knowing they will lick my wounds clean later when we rest, and they will protect me if need be. For now though, we run and run and run, and I can breathe the clean air and see the stars and planets suspended from the sky at night, and not have to limit myself to being only what others tell me I should be. I am rain and earth, wind and sleet, fire and tender love. I am wolf; I am free.

Description
Convincing yourself to be calm is difficult in a situation such as this; my heart pounds frantically and my breathing is shallow and rapid and I know I know I know that panicking won't help, but each low growl and short yelp makes me jump, scaring me all over again. The bright eyes, reflecting the soft light of the moon, circle around me, drawing closer and closer, and I know before I even lay down that I've given up; curling up in the soft grass, nose-tickling and sweet scented, is a relief. I simply close my eyes and wait, not noticing how the growls become more like keens, sad and sharp, and paws pad slowly over only to curl around my shivering body. By then I'm asleep, and safe in the protection of what I thought would be the harbinger of my departure.

* * * *

I wake up joyful to the feeling of soft fur against my skin, laughing in delight as my family blinks open their sleepy eyes, stretching and barking to each other. Some come to me, nudging their noses into my pink flesh, snuffling my arms and face, licking me clean. A whole family of mothers, comically different and better than the one I left behind; I don't need a house, because the pack is my home. Slowly I stand, letting a guttural sound escape as I sssttreeeetch out my stiff limbs, reveling anew in the fact that I can do that, make any noise I want as loud as I want, without fear of judgement. After all, the only creatures that are around me all do the same.

It was fall when I left, and winter came and went; with the spring, we delight in the warm air and rebirth of all things. The world is our oyster, and we are the shiny pearl at the center. Once awake and aware, we prance around, pads of our feet dancing in the dirt, my own toes sinking deep into the cool soil while they play. Patient mothers entertain their pups, batting at them lightly with claws sheathed, rolling around in the meadow grasses, watching diligently (and amused, I know) when the tiny things explore flowers and bees and the outskirts of the land where we rested overnight.

Some of the pups even explore me, knocking me back to the ground so they can leap onto my stomach and sniff around a bit; most decide that I am one of them, maybe just bigger, a strange version of themselves that is here to keep them amused. Their rowdiness stops when Alpha calls though. Immediately, a silence falls, before we begin howling with him. The primal sound tears from my throat, singing a song I'm only just beginning to understand, along with the rest; I learn with the young ones, discovering new wonders all the time.

And now my favorite part: we run. The air doesn't resist us, but flows around our bodies, slipping its fingers through my hair and tousling their fur; the ground is firm under my browned feet, and I happily ignore the ache of rocks and sharp things digging in. I happily ignore anything less than pleasant, enjoying the comfort of knowing they will lick my wounds clean later when we rest, and they will protect me if need be. For now though, we run and run and run, and I can breathe the clean air and see the stars and planets suspended from the sky at night, and not have to limit myself to being only what others tell me I should be. I am rain and earth, wind and sleet, fire and tender love. I am wolf; I am free.