Forgotten Love?

(mid-late 1800s)

The first time I saw him, I was a human. A small child, only five, should not be wandering the streets at night. But, the bridge was where I went when my parents fought. The bridge was white and chipped with age. It crossed over a river, that separated the small town from the woods. The wind chilled my bare skin, for I was only in my faded white nightgown. My long brown, curly hair blew into my face and, after reaching up to fix it, I saw him.

A young man, maybe seventeen, sat on the side of the bridge. His skinny legs dangled over the side. He was a mess and, as I got closer, I noticed he was quite dirty. His brown hair was disheveled and sticking out strangely on the side. He heard my approach and the strange pieces of hair, that stuck out, moved. He turned his head towards me and the first thing I noticed was his beautiful, crystal blue eyes. The second thing I noticed was that, what I thought was hair, was actually ears. Strange because they looked like wolf ears. I stood in awe and he stared in fear. He was afraid of me? A child? I didn't understand. I took a step closer and something on the bridge behind him twitched. I gasped, covering my mouth. A tail! A fairly unkept tail... But still a tail. Taking another step closer, our gazes held. I was only feet from him. Even though he looked messy, he smelled wonderful. A manly, musky scent with a hint of kindness. I smiled and reached for his ears. He made a whimpering noise as I touched his ears but soon noticed I had no intention of hurting him. His course hair felt funny in my little hands. He smiled, an adoring smile, and barked happily. His tail began wagging and I laughed. He lifted his hand and pawed at my cheek. I smiled at him and the next thing I knew, he was on top of me, covering me with slobbery tongue-licks.

"Puppy!" I exclaimed, petting the back of his head. He smiled and muzzled under his chin, making the cutest whimpering noise.

Suddenly, my father called angrily.

"Lynette! Come home!" he yelled from the front door, before slamming it shut again.

"Gotta go home," I said to this wonderful creature, now sitting next to me, having been spooked by my father's voice. "You come too?" I questioned.

"Home," he repeated. It was the first word he'd spoken to me. His voice sounded like be sang.

"No, no home," he said quietly, backing away, towards the woods.

"Come back tomorrow right?" he said suddenly, his ears pricked and tail wagging with excitement. I nodded my promise of return and turned to run home. He ran on all fours and stopped just at the edge of the woods. I turned to wave goodbye and he howled happily. I laughed, disappearing into my home.

For months after that, I frequently left bits of food on the bridge at night, and waited there to make sure he ate, before going back home. Then on night, he didn't come. Neither the night after that. I never saw my wolf boy again... Until...