His Wolf

Chapter 4

The expecting expression on the white wolf's face finally sobered his laughter.

A warm, fuzzy feeling was growing in his chest.

The caution towards the wild animal was still ingrained in his body, but another thing was battling with it at the same time. Inside it was chaotic yet calm.

He had realised last night that this wolf was not normal. The behaviour it displayed was similar to that of wild wolves, but not completely wild. It was small hints like the way it didn't flinch at sudden noises or it's lack of fear that gave it away.

A part of him recognised it as a wild creature.
Another part of him saw himself in it. The loneliness that ate away at his own heart. The need for affection. The need to be loved and build something stronger than the nothingness he currently dealt with. The emotions and feelings all shone in the wolf's eyes.

The wolf was patient as Anton crouched down to touch the thick fur of the caribou.

Shadows were quickly growing from the forest. Black tentacles grabbing at the pure snow.

His body stilled as the wolf got up and slowly rounded the dead animal. It's head was lowered and it's shoulder bones were sticking out. Fear clouded his vision and his body locked up. He couldn't move as he kept his eyes on the caribou, not looking at the predator.

The snow softly crunched. The smell of wet dog hit his nose along with pine sap. A loud inhale came from the wolf. The exhale hit his exposed neck that wasn't covered by his shawl. Then a wet nose pressed against his skin.

The cold contact shook him out of his own imprisonment. He threw his body to the side, his own instincts producing a reaction before his brain could stop it.

The wolf made a sound. Something between a growl and a whine. It was soft, almost inaudible and heartbreaking.

It made him stop moving away. It made him look up into it's blue eyes and freeze at their beauty.

He breathed out and a warm cloud of moisture quickly dissipated.

A tingle sizzled where the cold nose had touched. It wasn't unpleasant and he surprised himself by wishing they wouldn't cease.

The eyes were directly before him. They had been a few metres away after he'd moved away.

The wolf had moved fast.

And it hadn't actually pounced on him.

He watched as the wolf stared at him. He pulled his face away when it's awful breath hit his face. And then he squeezed his eyes close when the wolf's tongue licked his face.

The whining didn't stop. The licking didn't stop. And none of it was threatening to him. None of it made sense in his head

He opened his eyes.

His body was sprawled out on the snow propped up on his elbows. The caribou was within touch and a very large, white wolf was standing with spread legs over him. It's nose kept drifting to his neck as it licked up and down and over his face.

Over his skin, over his eyes, over the shell of his ears, along the bridge of his nose and gently the closed maw feathered over his lips.

Then it left his skin be. He looked up again when the saliva had dried. The tingle from the contact still hadn't left his lips.

Warm breath hit his face in clouds. The wolf stared at him and he stared at the wolf.

This has to be the most weirdest experience of my life.

The thought was random but he chuckled nonetheless.

The wolf's head tilted sideways and he slowly lifted his hand. The wolf's eyes never left his. It was not even slightly threatened by him.

His gloved hand touched the fur on it's neck and stroked. The wolf's intense gaze faltered as the eyelids twitched.

His hand immediately pulled away.

A low pleading whine followed and the wolf shifted into his touch.

He stroked again and watched as the wolf leaned in and it looked like it enjoyed it.

Suddenly the wolf's head jerked up. It's head swiveled to his hand and he froze again.

The razor sharp teeth came out of nowhere when they enclosed on his thin woolen mittens.

A small twinge in his pointer finger drew a sharp inhale from him. The glove was off and thrown to the side. The wolf's eyes now zoomed in to his finger where a small scrape was trickling blood.

He pulled his hand away and hid it in the folds of his coat.

The wolf whined again and it's paw pressed down on the upper arm of his injured right hand.

They have tasted the man's blood...be careful

Old Pete's warning rang in his ears as his heart sped up in fear.

The pressure on his arm increased and the same on the opposite side caused them to fling to the sides, exposed. The wolf's eyes drifted to the blood on his finger. He curled them into a fist to stop the bleeding. Though, it only made it worse.

Whining the wolf leaned forwards. It had access to his finger now. Where his blood was nearly freezing from the temperature. A few claws were digging into his arm through his thick jacket.

More kept oozing out before slowing down as it froze. And then a slick tongue licked it away. His heart beat frantically as he feared for his finger.

He should have never stuck around when the wolf came closer. It wouldn't have ended like this. He wouldn't have died by an animal.

But death never came.

A rough tongue kept licking all the blood away almost gently.

When the wolf seemed satisfied it stepped off him and sat down to the side. It's front legs lowered and then it was laying on the ground next to him.

The head was level with his and the tail brushed against his foot as it swept the snow.

The sun was far below the horizon now. The cold nose of the wolf pushed against his neck and the cold touch shocked him every time he received a nudge.

The tail thumped the snow when he looked at it.

Everything was surreal. The wolf didn't attack, it just wanted to be close to him. It brought him food for God's sake!

His heart had slowed down and rational thinking came back.

The wolf hadn't hurt him yet, but it still could.

So taking a risk, he stood up on his stiff legs, ignored the wolf's protests and turned his back heading inside.

As he opened the door warm air rushed towards him and he realised just how cold he was.

Then he stepped inside and went to close the door.