The Wolf

Betty, a young woman, went for a walk through the tall forests at dawn. She loved the smell of the dense woods and absorbed the cool shade and peaceful sounds. Oaks and maple trees stood tall, the branches nodded gently as she passed along. Clouds loomed darkly above the canopy, a storm was on the way.

Betty strolled purposelessly through the trees, unsure where she wanted to go. As the day progressed, the shadows became longer, and the woods became more dangerous. Roots snagged her steps, and pebbles obstructed her route. She lost her way as fog covered the woodland. The dusk approached her, and Betty felt her heart race—a long howl echoed through the jungle. Fear gnawed at her heart, but she persevered; she looked for a way out.

Betty's foot hooked on a branch. She tumbled down a slope and crashed hard on the damp ground below. She could barely stand due to her damaged foot, and she was exhausted. Just as terror set to start, a shadowy figure appeared from the bushes—a large, gray wolf stood before her.

A wolf! Betty froze, rooted to her place. But as the great, gray wolf approached, she sensed no threat, only calm. The wolf looked at her, golden eyes full of warmth.

Though scared, Betty saw warmth and peace at the wolf's face. The huge beast, weather or not, softly nudged her to stand. Slow but steady, the wolf led her through the dark woods, over logs and past streams, to safety.

The wolf nudged her along slowly, to console her, foremost her the way through the dark woods.

Betty followed, her hand on the wolf's fur, trust gradually prosperous. The wonderful beast showed her down unknown routes, past brooks and slopes, to a safe place. Suddenly, a charmed wooden house appeared before her. The wolf halted, gave a small nod, and trotted back where he came from: the woods, stout out any threat to the young woman on that dark, stormy day. Betty knew she was safe.

The wolf, duty done, gave her a last look and then went back to the depths of the forest, a helper of the lost.

As Betty sat by the warm glow of the wooden house hearth, the safe heat put shadows on the walls, her thoughts returned to the wolf. The storm raged around the house, yet she felt profoundly serene at her place . The wolf's golden eyes had a depth she would never forget—an unspoken relatedness forged when fear and hope came together.

Betty thoughts about the the wolf's soft fur against her hand had just a wonderful touch. The fur was warm and dense, shades of gray and pearly, almost as the woods themselves had been woven become a coat that breathes. The wolf's fur was not only safety, but also comfort. In that moment of worry and doubt, the velvety fur had gave her reassurance, and anchored her in the present and calmed her concerns about what could have happened more..