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I get up quietly, and I can feel the restlessness even more strongly. I consider whether we can just leave now, and I can come back on my own. Pacing around the camp, though, I know it's useless. I look out towards the woods and now, for the first time, I can understand. I didn't think I wanted to find forgiveness in myself, and here it is. I thought this would go a very different way. I thought I came to grieve. I thought I would need you, and I find instead that I'm a little sorry that I dragged you into this. I should have had more faith, more confidence, more patience.
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You were new. That was an automatic double win for me. You weren’t primed to suspicion. You didn’t know the history, so you could be kinder. And you, too, were an outsider. I could lay my subtle little claims and the others – the in-crowd, the normies – wouldn’t touch you. You seemed to expect their exclusion anyway, so maybe it was three points to me, right off the bat.
I remember the first time we actually hung out. We’d spoken a few times, just out of class incidentals about assignments, but you were the first to follow it up with more than that. I hadn’t been sure about you, even though I already had you securely in my camp. I mean. You’d been seen talking to me, ever. I think it made you mad to see how the rest of the school treated me. Well, you know, same.
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One more circuit around the camp. You're still sleeping. That doesn't seem right – I didn't take you for a late sleeper. But the grey dawn light stretches out, cold and timeless, and I wonder if there's something else happening. It lets me think you'll be safe, and that I don't have to worry, so I stop. That's when I head out. I don't need any of the things I packed after all. You'd be so upset – I don't even have my knife. My heartbeat is so loud. The sound is pounding in my head, setting the beat for my footfalls. The snow marks the trail clearly, I know. I'm so glad it's you who will be following.
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I really wonder what you had heard about me. You were so kind it hurt a little. No one had ever been nice to me like that before. I’m sure you wouldn’t see it that way, but whether or not you’d heard any whisperings from other sources, you let me bring things to you at my own pace.
I hope that I haven’t hurt you. I don’t think I have - for everything I did to draw you to me, I never had any control over your choices. I had to learn to predict you in way that's been instinct for dealing with everyone else since-
Well, you know since when. Since my mother disappeared, and then my sister.
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I feel her. I know her instantly. I don't dare turn around, or turn back. I can't become prey. That's not how I'm meant to lead here. The wildness running through my veins is fighting to be free, but if I let it slip now, it will just come out as an all too-human scream, and that will be the end. I'm not ready yet. I'm not even sure how I know this. It’s a balance of instincts that I still need my conscious mind to mediate. Maybe that's the trick – bringing that with me. Maybe I can balance this wildness. Maybe I can bring them back, too.
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People who’ve lived here long enough know about our family. I am going to guess that maybe you knew about someone like us? I will probably never know now. But there were things you said. You never seemed scared.
I was scared. That was always honest. I had no guarantees. Not from you, not from them - how could they? It’s not like in the stories. There’s no pretending after it happens. It's not a sometimes thing, it's always. Wolves are hungry creatures. They're fierce, and strong. The wolf will fight to take you. That's what happened to them. One way or another, the wolves took them. It doesn't always happen, or my family would never have gotten this far. Unless I can change things, it won't go any further than me. I have to try, don't I?
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I walk onwards with purpose. The snow dampens the sounds of my own footfalls, and I feel like a ghost. I don't know exactly where I'm going, but I'm sure it will become clear. I wonder what you'll read in my trail – purpose or bluster? What will you make of this little parade? Me, and the wolf I'm sure is my mother. Sometimes she's so close I can feel her hot breath, imagine a red tongue lolling in her open mouth. She's not panting, exactly. Maybe it's something more like a huff. I'm not sure if she knows me, but maybe there is something familiar. She definitely feels the same pull, the same purpose, as me. I'm sure of that. Maybe that's what's familiar. Soon enough I'll know her mind – mine will be the same. I'm clinging to these thoughts, this consciousness, as I let my body move under this compulsion.
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I remember telling you about this place. How I'd lost my family here, years apart. How we used to come here all the time. How I hadn't been since I lost my sister. I let it be your idea, to come back. To get closure. I told you I was scared. Or – no, did I really tell you? I think you knew anyway. Maybe you didn't know what of, but I think everyone knows I was scared. You said you'd never met a wilderness that made you afraid. Is it still true? I hope so. Please don't be scared of me.
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I looked up and I could see the moon in the sky. The feeling is indescribable. Is. I'm still carrying it with me. The feeling I mean, not the moon. Or maybe they're the same thing. My sister is with us now. Our whole family, or all I've ever known of it. The wood is reaching out for me, pulling me in the way my hunters are driving me forward. My thoughts are slipping. I'm trying to focus on you, to remember what we talked about. When you do wake up, what will you see? Will the moon still be clear in the grey sky? Is it clear now? Could you see what I see? Feel what I feel? The trees are reaching for me, and the moon.
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I didn't know what I was going to do with you at first. I had an ally, but what did I want? But you opened up and the plan nearly made itself. You said you used to go camping all the time, in the woods back home. You went with your dad. He would take you hunting, but you didn't like that. Then you went by yourself. You said nature made you feel confident. I wanted that. I didn't know what would happen, but I wanted to be confident, either way, because it was supposed to be all or nothing. More than anything else, you would be my friend. However this went.
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I don't feel fear. That's like confidence. I don't feel excited. I just move forward. The bare trees rise up their hands to the grey sky. My breath is hot in the cold air. Behind me, the wolves flank my path. Didn't I have a plan? Was it more than just moving along this path?
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You said coming here would bring me closure. I said "when?" You said "why wait?" Or was it the other way around? I know you said the words, but were they my words first? You said it though. You said "why wait." As soon as it slipped from your lips, there was nothing to stop me. I knew I couldn’t wait as soon as you said I should come. You were supposed to be my lifeline. My anchor. You said friends take care of each other. Where are you? There's no one here but the wolves.
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The wildness is like an itch I can't reach, just under my skin. I feel restless. I just need to get away, further into the woods. Maybe that's get towards? Into the woods, away from my skin. When did I start running? Was I trying to do something? They're beside me now. I could touch them. Just reach out. Feel their fur. Join them.
It's hard to remember
Think
So strong
Inside me
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