I run even faster than I did on the track. They’re only fifty yards ahead of me. They flow through the trees, graceful as wind. They could let me catch up to them if they wanted to. But they don’t want to. They speed away from me like I’m just another human. A stranger—or an enemy. “Come back!” I cry. “It’s me! Wait!” But wolves aren’t dogs. They don’t come when you call them.
Jennifer and 4 other people liked this
