The Wolf's Boy

Chapter Twenty-Two: Distance

The wolf galloped out of view and Kismet thought he had been hallucinating. Bowing his head in defeat, Kismet slid to the ground. He pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his chin against them.  He stared at his feet and his thoughts began to stray. But before he had time to wander into his imagination, a shadow was cast over his feet. Kismet gasped and snapped his head up. There, almost like a ghost, with the yellow sun blasting behind it was Kismet’s wolf.  Kismet laughed and tears filled his eyes again. The wolf tossed his head back, howling and barking in joy. His whole body wagged side to side and he hopped in the air with his paws waving in front of him.

               “I’ll come up, boy, don’t you move! I’ll be up!” Kismet wedged his fingers into a crevice, tightened the muscles in his back, and heaved himself up. Carefully, and not to disturb any fragile areas on the ledge, he raised his leg and planted it as close to one of his hands as he could. He paused to take a breather and find his balance. Prestige hung his head over the edge and whined high in his throat. He wanted to help Kismet, but he didn’t know how without getting in the way. Kismet reached up for another ledge and grasped on, he pulled himself up and was on his way to moving his other hand when the ledge gave way. Kismet reached up with his other hand and slipped it in a crevice just in time the loose rock fell from its place. Aching in unbearable pain, Kismet released his grip and landed back onto the edge below.

               Prestige whimpered and paced above. He could not stand it. He would not tolerate it. Prestige gave out a sharp bark, as if he had finalized an idea in his mind. The wolf bolted off in the opposite direction he had come from.  The wolf sprinted through the woods at such speed, he blended in his surroundings. With every obstacle in the way, he gracefully cleared them. He ran and ran and ran until morning became noon, and noon became evening. The wolf continued at a steady pace, stopping once to drink from a puddle or a nearby stream. But he lingered just enough to find new strength in his legs before pursuing on. It was nighttime the wolf could see the best. With the moonlight tinting his pathway, he could run just as smoothly as he had done when the sun was out. It was when he came across a thorn bush did he come to a halt.

               The wolf growled and paced in front of his most threatening object. He ran back a few yards and observed the height. It was too overgrown and the tree that had fallen on it only added another foot or more. The wolf knew his limits, but he also knew keeping Kismet company was more important. Prestige went up to the base and began digging persistently. Mounds and mounds of dirt piled behind him and it wasn’t long before he had a good size hole dug. However, it wasn’t long enough to reach the other side. Prestige plopped down and panted. He had to eat. Prestige left the tunnel alone to go off and take town a wild bird or rabbit. Being the fine hunter he was, he succeeded in locating a bird and killing it in less than twenty minutes. He brought the bird back to his hole and at it there. Once he had finished and napped for half an hour, he threw himself into the task and managed to reach the other side.

                His job wasn’t done yet, he still had more digging. The other side was too small for him to fit through. The wolf didn’t care—he had to see Kismet Prestige plunged into his tunnel and began squeezing through. The beginning was easy and his coat protected him from the thorns. It wasn’t until he neared the other side did the thorns break into his skin and the crawling became uncomfortably tight. Prestige growled and tried to free himself, but he had no other way to go except to remain still. Whimpering and wincing at the pain, Prestige placed his chin on his paws and waited. Closing his yellow eyes, the wolf rolled into sleep. Hours later, Prestige’s ears pricked to his name sung in two high notes. Prestige yelped and threw himself forward. The thorns raked into his back, but he did not care—Kismet was calling him.

               Prestige twisted, cried, and dug until he freed his head from the tunnel. Once his head was out, he was able to pull his front feet out in front of him. The wolf growled deeply as he wrenched the rest of himself free from the thorns. Feeling himself released, the wolf bounded straight to the base of the mountain and began heading up towards Kismet.  The steeper the hill became, the stronger gravity took control. Prestige could go no further without feeling unbalanced. Kismet peered over the edge and saw the wolf, no bigger than his hand sitting below him. Looking down, he could see why the wolf was bound to his area; there was no way to get up unless a contraption was built.

               “I’m sorry, Prestige,” Kismet mumbled through swelling tears. “We’re going to be fine, ain’t we boy?”

               The wolf rested his snout on his paws and sighed. There had to be a way up.

               Maybe I can jump? It’s not as far as it looks. Kismet assumed as he dangled his legs over the side.  He looked down and saw that it would be laughable. Where he was it went straight down a ravine, there was no way he would make it. Kismet looked over to Prestige’s side and figured he could aim in that direction. It was still far, and he had no run up. Maybe I can scale the wall until I get to Prestige’s side? Then I’ll drop? Kismet stood up and tried for the ledge again. But when he stood in front of it, his hand clasping the sharp, rocky sides, he was filled with doubt and he couldn’t bring himself to that fear again. Kismet sunk to the ground and thought, he couldn’t let his fear outsmart him, there had to be a way up or down. He couldn’t stay there. Kismet looked down at Prestige and gave him a confident nod.

               “I’ll get down all right, you wait and see, boy.”

               Prestige wagged his tail and his ears pressed against his head like he had done before at the sound of Kismet’s voice.