October 23rd 2012442Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT2bPrYkB2k
Today isn't nearly as cold as yesterday. The snow is glistening with bright sparkling dots as the sun's radiance flow into each flake. Slush covers the driveway, which isn't interesting enough to capture. I stand on the porch step, trying to find something. Just something eligible to frame. I fidget with my camera strap which droops from my neck. Something violent. Attracting. Demanding. There's nothing, well, unless you count the rust on the wheel slots of my mom's old truck.
I sigh, and climb over the fence to the back, hoping for something to spark my interest. We have so much room, my mother and I, so much land. You'd think there'd be something out here to take a picture of. The forest trees make nice portraits, but I need something new, something else, something unexpected. I sit down in a plastic lawn chair we'd gotten from my neighbor, Rob. Well, Liam nabbed it for me. I guess that was his idea of an anniversary present.
I rest my elbows on my knees, and drop my head into my hands. Looking down, I grab my camera from my lap, and raise it to the glossy snow in my view. I peer in, and notice a spot on the lens.
I curse under my breath, and try to wipe it with my sweater sleeve. I raise it back to eye level, and notice something I hadn't before. Something red. Attracting. Demanding. Violent. I immediately stand from my chair, and start running through the thin layer of flaky snow.
As I get closer to the something, I realize that it's a deer. An interruption of the innocence of the white snow covered field. It's more than likely dead, or close to. It's head is sagging on the ground, it's back torn and clawed raw. The snow beneath it is stained red, and as I near it, I notice it's eyes: deathly alive, like it was just prancing through the field, no worry in the world, then something attacked it. I can almost sense the death radiating from it's body.
I kneel down at it's stomach, not afraid to touch the deceased animal. I lean over, and find the broken skin isn't crowded with ants or maggots. It's been too recent for insects to inspect it. Too fresh. I inhale through my mouth, and instantly regret it. I almost gag as I cover my mouth with my sleeve disgustedly, stepping away from the dead deer.
I raise my camera. Click.
I hear rustling from behind me, then a thump, and a low growl.
The blood isn't dry. The body is fresh. Something attacked it. Something.
I am not alone.
I turn around slowly. My breathing isn't rushed, even though my heart is pounding. A small wolf sits ten feet from my steady legs. It's only little, sitting like a dog on it's behind, it's front legs straight, it's back tall. It doesn't look scared. It's big green eyes gleam into mine with wonder. Not curiosity, not I'm-going-to-eat-you inspection. Just wonder, like a small boy looking at a kitten for the first time. He bows his head low without breaking eye contact, and let's out another "grrrrrrr."
I smile, and growl back at him. I raise my camera, unafraid, and snap a picture of the small animal. As he growls playfully for a third time, I notice the blood laced on his teeth. He swipes his tongue over his fangs, and the red is gone. He rolls onto his back, and I take the moment as an opportunity to catch another picture.
Click.
He rolls onto his stomach, and stands on all fours. He isn't tall, just barely reaching my knees. He gallops around the field. Click. He pounces on what I can only imagine is a mouse. Click. He looks up, the tail of the rodent sticking out from his mouth. Click. His ears twitch and fold back, and suddenly he starts running towards the forest trees lining the horizon. I take one last picture, click, and notice with curiosity that the wolf's coat isn't white like I thought it was. But, rather, it has a strange tint to it, like a pale green. A... teal? No, not teal. A... A... mint! His fur has a mint color to it. Something I hadn't noticed before... Something.
I head back towards the house, wondering about the mint colored wolf, and if I might see him again. But I will, I know I will.
And I do. He comes again. His beautiful mint coat pure and clean. But he's not as small as he used to be. He finally reached my knee height, and then a small bit bigger to my mid thigh. But then he stopped visiting. And I stopped waiting. I stopped watching the trees for hours, thinking maybe, maybe, he'll come back one day.
But hey, I don't give up that easy.
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