The Stray Wolf

“To sum it all up, this is why protecting wolves is key to keeping the balance of our forest. Being a top predator means that the herds of deer are being controlled and disease is not running rampant through the population. Coyotes might be able to hunt smaller game; like raccoons or beavers, but they would not be able to keep the balance of the larger prey population.” Heather finished her presentation to the visiting group of Middle Schoolers.

Every Friday, the Willow Creek Reserve opened Nature School for the local community. It was important, especially nowadays when over urbanization is constricting the rural parts of the area. In a streak of luck, a large Conservation Group had bought over a hundred acres that surpassed the mountain ridge beyond the town of Lunawood Grove. Last year, the reserve was being threatened by the Mayor that he was going to sell the property to a developer that would put golf courses and a glamping resort on the reserve. The Mayor claimed it would bring revenue to the small town of Lunawood Grove. Heather had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at her boss when he told her the news. You know what else brought revenue to the town? The beautiful mountain range and the undisturbed forest. There were hundreds of visitors a month that would climb the trails. It hadn't been enough, according to Mayor Archer. The idea of nature school was the brain child of Heather and the head Forest Ranger. What better way to inspire youth than to give them a free visit to the Reserve?

“Now, with that out of the way, who is ready for the hike?” Heather asked and there was mostly an enthusiastic response through the group of twenty kids. “Great, around the room you'll find supplies for the hike. Remember, this is a 3-mile round-trip hike, but you always want to be prepared for longer. Fill your canteens and check your team's packs. Then meet your Lead Ranger in ten minutes.” Heather said in her teacher-like voice.

The Nature School trail was new, a good beginners hike; especially for the younger generation. If the school was a success, they might open more trails for more experienced kids. Baby steps though, Mayor Archer still didn't put a lot of faith in their plan. Heather left the kids and went to meet her other Rangers outside; her backpack already set up this morning. Thankfully, when the

'Save Rural Lunawood' Conservation group bought the land, the grant also allowed them to fund at least a dozen new Rangers. This allowed the Nature School to split the kids up into four groups. Ember Benson was one of the new recruits, but she had prolonged experience as a hiker and even a cave explorer. Her brilliant red hair was braided and pulled into a high-top ponytail that kept it just off her neck. Heather had liked Ember as soon she met her, they often did some light hiking together on their days off. Hudson was a little less experienced, but he knew our trails like the back of his hand. He'd moved out of the city to become a Forest Ranger. Sometimes, passion is just as good as experience. When he was younger, he would actually visit Willow Creek with his family. After it was threatened to become an urbanized glamping ground, he raised twenty thousand dollars playing games. Hudson was a sweetheart, with a tall-and-fluffy build and soft honey eyes that almost matched his hair; he was like a teddy bear in human form. The last ranger has been here for the longest time, but Heather knew very little about Holly Brierley. From the ranger grape-vine she opened the Reserve about fifty years ago– somehow still looked no more than thirty, and hasn't left since. She used to be the Manager of the Reserve, but shortly before Heather arrived she took a pay cut and became a Ranger. Holly had been her Senior Ranger and taught her all twenty trails and how to manage the property.

As Heather approached the group, Holly turned those familiar hazel eyes on her. Something inside Heather always reacted to Holly when they made eye contact. It started as a nervous flutter in her stomach, which signaled to her heart rate to elevate. Before the thumping in her ears started, Heather broke eye contact first, which settled her stomach. There was a subtle tilt of Holly’s head when Heather almost immediately broke the contact between them. Her eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, Heather never broke eye contact with her before–at least not before greeting her.

“Everything alright, Heather?” Her question would catch her off guard, Holly never really pried into her coworkers personal life. This was true for the most part, until Heather joined the team.

“I’m fine,” her answer was curt and she still refused to meet her mentor’s searching eyes. Why was she becoming bothered by Holly’s overbearing presence? Heather shifted her pack anxiously as the group waited for the kids to finish packing their gear.

“I know what it is,” said Hudson, who wrapped his arm fondly over her shoulders, “It’s the Rose Moon tonight!” The Rose Moon signified that Spring was over and Summer was beginning. It also was a beautiful, rosy color when it reached its peak.

Heather chuckled sheepishly, “Oh, yeah. You got me,” she took a sip of water to clench her sudden parched lips.

“Also, isn’t it your twenty-first birthday tomorrow?” Ember raised an eyebrow, she also took a small sip of her water.

“You’re really only twenty years old?” Holly asked, almost accusingly. Her teeth snagged her lip, how had she not noticed her birthday? With a snort, Holly wiped the back of her neck; she must be getting old; she didn’t recognize the age of her last protege.

“I guess, we can blame it on the mountain air and all, that's why we both look so young for our age,” Heather said, clipping her canteen onto her pack.

It was pretty common for people to think she was a lot older than she looked. Heather had been on her own since she was eighteen, kicked out of the foster system. A memory made Heather chuckle, Holly had actually discovered her living rough on the Reserve. She managed to save enough money to buy a tent and a sleeping bag after living on a nest of leaves and old blankets. The forest had always been her place of peace, ever since she was too young to remember. Her childhood was pretty dim, but whose childhood wasn’t? After being found squatting on the private land, Holly took her in, gave a roof over her head and gave her a job as a ranger.

Holly’s smile was genuine, and she seemed to soften, “That’s right kids, due to our lovely mountain air, I only look thirty years old.” The kids had just exited the doors and stood before the adults.

One kid responded, “So, how old are you?”

Whenever a kid asked it, or another coworker; the same response was, “Two hundred and thirteen.” The response was always given proudly, hands on her hips and her head thrown back with laughter.

The laughter soon subsided and she clapped her hands, calling us all into attention. Holly did the trail briefing. Each of the Rangers would take a set of five students into one of the trail entries; there were at least five different starting points on the Nature School Trail, but they all ended at the same point, Crescent Lake. If everything went to plan on their trails, they should all meet up around noon, have lunch and then be back before sunset. Holly passed out a map of each designated trail to the lead ranger. When Holly came to Heather, her eyes were down, focusing on the tips of her hiking boots. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she approached. She could feel her and Heather’s heart began to pound inside her chest. Holly studied the woman in front of her, still refusing to make eye contact.

Please, I want to see your eyes, Holly thought, honing in on the blonde woman in front of her. “Heather, can you look at me?” Her breath came out as a whisper, so as not to alert the others or the children behind her. Heather’s silver-blue eyes graced her presence finally and Holly handed the map to her. Her fingertips gently stroked her fingers as she gave her the map.

Heather snatched her hand back, gripping the map tightly. It felt as if she touched a hot wire; a streak of lightning running up her right arm, making her jerk. After this new sensation, Heather turned on her heels, gathered the kids and walked them away from the others. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead and she couldn’t catch her breath. This was a new reaction, this had never happened before. Goosebumps had raised over her arms as she led the kids to the trail head. This was the strangest feeling she had ever gotten from Holly, but why now? Was it really because of the Rose Moon that she felt on edge? Or was it something else? Heather couldn’t let these thoughts get a foothold in her head. It was time to focus, they needed to get to Crescent Lake before noon and back before sunset. They always tried to leave ample time for the sun to be up, in case there were emergencies. In over three months, there were never any major incidents.

There had only been one incident when she’d run into a wolf pack, but she managed to keep her kids quiet long enough for the predators to acknowledge them and walk off peacefully. They had to, however, stay quiet for almost an hour as the pack had been hunting an elk and a grizzly had stumbled upon the pack after they brought it down. When they first heard the howls, it sent chills down to her core and made her stomach knot so painfully, she almost got sick. The group was too open and Heather took them just off the trail to hide in the brush and watch the hunt. It was a unique experience; even for seasoned rangers like her to watch, so it was even more special for the kids in her group.

When the wolves first came into view, she wasn’t sure what species they were. Heather had several books about predators and a few about wolf species. This one is so different compared to the others. Both the front and back legs were lanky, their tails short and their paws almost looked like hands. The wolves were in various sizes, shapes and colors. Some were grey and silver, brown with hints of red and some almost blonde. They hunted like wolves, though. The pack circled the large elk, a silver wolf snapped its jaws on the hindquarters, ripping those tendons from its haunches. One stood briefly on its hind legs and went for the throat, while another jumped on the back and brought its jaws down on the back of the skull; narrowly missing getting impaled by the shaking antlers.

After only moments of the elk collapsing, a black wolf turned to look at them, his eyes making contact–at least it felt like they made eye contact though they were several hundred feet away. Heather had looked away from the wolves and observed the brush just ahead, hearing branches breaking a few feet away from the pack. They appeared to be oblivious of the sound because the wolves began eating, only gentle growls and snarls coming from the more dominant wolves as they fed. Then the grizzly appeared, making soft chuffs at the other predators. Most of the time, there was a give and take with these two top predators. Either one would steal or give their kill to one another, based on how hungry either one was. This incident was different. The black wolf snarled and snapped its jaws at the grizzly, which made the bear stand on its hind legs, which the wolf..for some odd reason mirrored. At least, that's what Heather thought, because when she rubbed her eyes the wolf was on all fours and snapping its jaws inches from the grizzly. A tawny brown wolf came and stood beside the black one and also began to snarl at the bear. The stand-off only lasted a few seconds before the grizzly bear dropped on all four paws and lumbered lazily away from the pack. Blessed the Forest Spirits, it didn’t lumber toward the group of hikers.

After the ordeal, Heather had brought up the incident to Holly. She’d asked her if anything like this has ever happened before, her response was so nonchalant, ‘Of course it does. Though, not many have been lucky enough to witness a wolf hunt.’ Well, that had to be true. Just because a tree falls in the forest, doesn’t mean it doesn’t make a sound. Heather got a more obscure answer when she asked her about the unique-shaped wolves.

‘Our wolves up here are slightly different from your general canis lupus. Researchers have yet to take samples, but we call them canis lupus garus. When Heather questioned her further, Holly waved her away and would no longer speak on the creatures than roamed on the reserve. They act like normal wolves, but just shaped differently. Maybe they were a different sub-species, Heather often let that old experience take shape in her mind’s eye as she worked. Today was no exception.

______________

“Dammitall,” the cry left her lips as Heather took a misstep and tumbled off the trail. Rolling down the hill, she couldn’t stop the momentum as it plunged her through the underbrush, crushing several young pines on the way down. After only a few seconds, she found herself at the bottom of a small ravine, laying in the creek. The pain radiated up her elbows and her left hip as she tried to sit up. The creeks' stones push against her and she grasps her bleeding arm. Heather looks from, seeing the group linger at the edge of the trail she’d just fallen from. Heather braced her good hand against the creek bed, trying to push herself to stand. She let out a cry of pain, as her ankle gave out underneath her. Blast it, she was panting heavily with pain and felt light-headed.

“Don’t follow!” She shouted up at the kids, “Stay there, I’ll radio for help!” Still sitting, she reached for her radio on her hip. Now, she found out what the pain in her hip was caused from; not just the fall down into the ravine, but the radio was crushed in her hand. She had to laugh at her stupidity. “Nevermind, kids. Call for help, we’re at trail marker nineteen.” she shouted up at them, hoping they could hear her. She heard a resounding, ‘okay’ from them.

With a sigh of relief, she looked around trying to figure what she could do to get out of the creek. She found a thick stick laying nearby, she reached over and grabbed it and used it to push herself upwards, leaning on her good leg. Hobbling forward, she sat back down against the bank of the creek, looking up at the kids as they began to radio for help. Looking at her watch, it was almost noon, which means the other groups were at the lake and could easily head down the fourth trail to grab us. Everything would be okay. Heather sighed and leaned her head against her walking stick. The peaceful trickling of the water kept her calm, even as pain surged through her body.

As peace began to settle over the pain, a chorus of howls broke the silence. Why hadn’t she realized the only sound nearby was the creek? No birds singing, or squirrels chattering as they chased one another through the brush. Her pulse thrummed in her neck as fear replaced peace and her heart hammered in her chest. The predators were here, and she had not even paid any attention. With a grunt, Heather forced herself to stand.

“Kids!” She shouted up at them, “Get off the trail! Move to the brush, but stay near the trail marker!”

Another cacophony of howls echoed through the forest and her pulse raced. Heather could see the group of children move out of her field of view, they’d stayed near the edge so they could see her, and she could see them. Now, she had to trust that they could stay quiet as the wolf pack got closer. The silence was drawn out for several minutes; maybe they moved off. As Heather began to relax and sit back down, a branch snapped above her. She stared up at the black wolf. His eyes were bright yellow as they stared upon one another. She found herself holding her breath as the wolf began to walk down the ravine toward her. As the wolf drew near, suddenly it was screams that pierced the air above them. The children! She couldn’t do anything, she could sit there as the predator crept toward her silently. The black wolf hopped into the ravine, the stones sliding out from under his paws. As he approached, she noticed he looked normal–well, he had no lanky limbs, but he was larger than your average wolf. When he got closer, the musk overwhelmed her and she could hear the soft growl as he approached. The howls began again and the screams were further away. They were hunting.

“This is all my fault,” Heather whispered as the wolf bared his fangs at her.

The black wolf stood in front of Heather, growling lowly in his throat and it vibrated through her bones. The sweat trickled down her neck as they stared at each other…