Through the Woods
Through the Woods
Throughout our lives, one often dreams of becoming, or being, something else. Whether that would be a celebrity or a person from a different time period, we would catch ourselves spinning dreams of these different “lives”, but mine was always different. My vision was something a bit out of the ordinary, for I dreamt of the moments where I could run freely and endlessly across an open field in the crisp evening with the rain pouring down my back and the thunder rolling down the mountains,under my feet, and up into my very soul. I wanted to be a wolf. Yes, it was a bit odd, but it was truly what I visualized myself becoming, for wolves have always seemed to fascinate me in some beloved way. To be a wolf meant
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All I could ever find myself thinking about was running wildly on a snug, summer afternoon with the sky streaked in beautiful hues of orange and pink while chasing a herd of caribou and nipping at their flanks and barking out gleefully as we hoped that it would turn out to be a successful hunt. I envisioned myself at the peak of a snow-covered mountain, surrounded by my loving, loyal pack while we howled endless, passionate verses to the pale-white moon in the blue night sky. Other times I would simply see myself lying on the red-earth dirt when the sun was at its highest point and embracing the warm rays like a cold-blooded gecko does when it comes out to lay unbothered on its rock. In my darker days, I would still imagine being a wolf in order to escape the horrors of reality except that when I would picture my wolf-self, I was alone; I was lost out in the barren woods on a frozen winter night with the wind growling in my ears while the thick snow piled on my pelt and made me look like a ghost with shining silver eyes that reflected back despair and heartache. It was those times in my life when I fully longed to become my inner wolf. Whether it was to escape the real world for a few minutes or to distract my mind from the demons that haunted