I fall to my knees at the empty den, tears blurring my vision. My mother and litter-mates are gone, the blueberry bushes broken and stripped of leaves. Something has gone horrifically wrong.

I am human.

Ever after, the wolf is present in me. Sometimes I can change at will. I fight off those that hunt me, keep my secret and show its ferocity, live, love, birth cubs of my own, and always, always know.

The book told me – the only book I could ever read.

The wolf which I am stained within

In the end, I grow old. My days turn to isolation and depression. I can no longer control my transformations, waking in crippled half-changes. A lone wolf brings me food when I cannot hunt, and when my vision fades, I beg a final request.

“Tell them, I died as a wolf.”

“I will sing your song to the sky,” he promises.

I crawl out of my hovel, mud-spattered, legs dragging, the change overtaking my body one last time. I am complete again – fully animal and wild.

My vision fades, my life flickers out.