The House of the Wolf

12

Chantal came back to herself slowly. Waking seemed an act of will, a slow reassembling of her sleep-fragmented self. She'd been having a dream – a bad dream, about being pursued through the woods by wolves. Yet another rousing from yet another nightmare, she thought. But was it truly over? As her eyes opened she saw bared fangs surrounding her still, and eyes that glimmered coldly through the dark.

She gasped and struggled to rise, and as she did so her bleary vision refocused. The animals were still there, and real; but they were lifeless and harmless. A coyote's teeth snarled at her from its dead mouth, its hide flat and empty on the floor behind it. Shaggy pelts of bear, fox and lynx were piled on some rough furnishings and hanging on the wooden walls, along with snowshoes and other outdoor gear. The eyes that had seemed to gaze at her were glass, given the illusion of life by the sole source of light in the strange room: the flickering glow of fire. Flames burned on a primitive stone hearth and candles were everywhere, from small tapers to votive candles in glass holders adorned with the Virgin and other Catholic saints. A smaller fire burned in a brazier set up on the floor. In front of it, seated upon a fur pelt, was a woman swathed in a patterned shawl. She had long, draggled, greying black hair; her skin was weathered and brownish, with fine wrinkles raying from the corners of her eyes, which were deep-set and dark as a doe's. The firelight cast strong shadows in her face, highlighting her prominent nose and high cheekbones.

Chantal sat up. Looking down, she saw that she was clad in an unfamiliar flannel nightgown at least a size too large for her. The blankets of the bed in which she had lain were worn and threadbare. It had apparently served as a dog's bed too in the not-so-distant past: the blankets smelled rank and were covered in loose brown hairs.

"Where am I?" she rasped. "How did I get here?"

The woman answered with a question of her own. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I..." Chantal frowned. "I thought I was dreaming, but now I'm not sure. I think it really happened... I ran into some wolves. I was outside looking for my family, but they weren't there, just this pack of huge wolves standing and staring at me. I – I was terrified. They got between me and the cottage. I could hear Genevieve – my aunt – screaming, and I tried to get into the SUV but it was locked. So I ran towards the road..." Dirt and stones flying under her feet, her heart pounding in time to her strides, the gaping darkness under the trees, the howls of her pursuers ... "There was no traffic, no one to flag down and ask for help. No houses anywhere near. I knew there wouldn't be. I was just running in a panic, not thinking at all. And they – the wolves – kept chasing me. Driving her, like sheep dogs with a sheep, forcing her off the road and into the forest..." Fangs snapping at her legs, steamy breath hot on her skin, dark furred forms blocking off all escape routes but one: the one that led into the darkness... "They do that, don't they – herd their prey, hunting together in a team? I was in the dark then, among the trees. I kept bumping into things, I couldn't see where to go. But I could hear the wolves: the howling, the panting. They were all around me then, and I – " She broke off.

"And then – ?" the woman prompted.

Screaming, twisting, tearing at her own clothing, to pull it off and free herself – free the fanged and savage self confined inside the cloth. To fight her attackers as wolf against wolf... No, that part was clearly a dream. But what had happened to her then? All she remembered after that was another wolf appearing, confronting those that pursued her: a white wolf, fur like snow under the moon, blue eyes that gazed steadily into her own – not with hostility, but comfort and reassurance. The white wolf stood over her protectively as she lay helpless on the ground...

No, wait: that last part couldn't be real. It was just a displaced memory. The white Monster wolf, from the Redpath video...

"I guess – I must have fainted," she said at last. "It's all kind of a blur. How did I get here – wherever here is? And who are you?"