Short Story: Howl For The Future

The sound of the call made her cry. It was a sound of camaraderie and dependency. The howl was hope. She remembered the stories her ancestors told her about the wolves. The noble warriors, just as her people had been. Both now gone under the modern people, who knew nothing of what it meant to live. There was only time and stress and material: no wolves, no bears, and no elks running up the valley. It had been decades since anyone had seen a wolf here until now. The lands had become scarce. But this was the last wilderness there was, standing guard. Nature still had its place to say what it meant to exist. That was another thing her ancestors had taught. It was the connection that made who she was.

She had almost forgotten it. It was time to return. She lowered her backpack on the thick snow bank at the rim of the mountain path, where she had been trekking for the best part of the day. The light was already setting behind the mountains. She would have to sleep outside tonight. She took out her binoculars. The howl echoed again in the valley below her. She was sure it was a call of comings. To whom or what—she shook her head. She searched among the tall firs for any sign of the pack that had been reported to visit the city. That’s why she was here. It was tasked as her duty to hunt them. The riffle felt heavy on her.

The city was scared. She and others had protested, but fear had won. It was for the children. It always was for the children. Yet, what child admired this world their parents had built for them? They were taught to forgo themselves and sit still, to kill and hunt out of fear, and never be curious. That was what they took away from them: their own children. They were numb. There were no attention difficulties in nature. There was only presence.

She held her breath. She saw it. It was a big one with a silver fur. The pack wasn’t too far. She lifted her binoculars up the hill where the wolf had come, and she saw the fresh litter tumbling down the snowy banks with the seven bigger wolves. The pack was more monstrous than any book let her believe how strong they could grow. Maybe there was more hope than she had thought.

She got her backpack back on her and started making her way down the hill. She kept her snowshoes on, forcing them against the snow to stop herself from rolling down the slopes. The wind was picking up, and the air was getting crispier. It would be freezing cold tonight. She pulled her collar up to guard her face as the wind blew over the hill. She kept her eyes on the wolves, tracking their every move. And then she saw the lights. So did the wolves, too. They cocked their heads up and began running where they had come from. She dropped her backpack on the ground and took up the rifle, steadying it against her shoulder. She looked through the scope at the men coming fast toward the wolves with their snowmobiles.

She held her breath, and when she released it, she squeezed the trigger. The gunshot echoed in the valley. The wolves disappeared behind the treeline. She loaded her riffle again and aimed at the second snowmobile, taking them down one by one. The men she would let live if they knew how to survive. It was up to them.

Thank you for reading! Have a magical winter time ❤

P.S. It seems there are two wolf packs around where I live. It’s no wonder there seems to be more deer running around. Last winter, I saw lynx tracks in my local woods. Anyway, I hope no one gets any bright ideas to go hunt them. I know how scary the thought of running into a pack can be. I have been afraid of wolves ever since I can remember, but the more I have read about them, the more I understand they are an integral part of our nature and my life. We have forgotten so many important things about what it means to exist just because we live in the cities and away from nature. Me too. It seems like days are too busy with unimportant things, and I don’t roam the woods the same way I used to anymore. And to be honest, the idea of going now alone in the woods scares me. Reports of the wolves were made during the day.