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Authors: Kat Kruger
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concerned?”
“This is not the place to be discussing my
feelings.”
“We have to call the police, or animal control, or
something. Just because you own a big dog―”
“Listen.” Her dark eyes pierce straight through
me. “Believe me when I say that would be neither prudent nor
useful.”
I stare at her incredulously.
“What do I need to say to convince you to keep
moving?”
Arden, a good fifty paces from us, barks angrily,
“ Que
fait-il ?”
I turn to look. He appears to be squaring off
against the creature. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Listen, you fool, your life’s in grave
danger.”
Danger, grave danger at that, yet here I stand
firmly rooted to the ground.
“So’s yours.”
He curses in French.
“Please, Connor,” Amara implores.
The animal steps fully into the light, and then
there’s no question of what we’re facing. Through and through a
snarling, angry wolf. Suddenly a wave of panic washes over me, and
I find myself running by Amara’s side. It doesn’t even matter to me
at this point that we’re losing Arden in the distance. I glance
quickly over my shoulder, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Amazingly,
it looks like the wolf has gotten into a fight with another big
dog. I break my pace to watch. They begin circling each other,
hunkered down and snarling, two predators about to go head-to-head.
All I can focus on is the pure animal aggression in the flash of
their fangs and low growls. As one beast lunges at the other, the
light catches something gold glinting around the neck of one of
them. It’s Lou. I almost stop completely, but Amara urges me
ahead.
I’m winded in minutes. I can barely catch my breath
because of the painful stitch in my side, yet I keep running. We
eventually slow down as Amara leads me up the stairs to the flat. I
pant uncontrollably, and she’s barely broken a sweat. Her only sign
of exertion is slightly heavier breathing. Otherwise, I’d say she
just came back from a brisk stroll. I follow her into the
apartment, where I promptly collapse onto an armchair and close my
eyes, trying to will the pain away. Even my legs feel the
exhaustion from the sudden burst of energy.
“You ― I ― need ― explain...”
Amara stands statue-still by the window. She doesn’t
respond immediately, and I wonder if the words were just incoherent
noise. Finally, she peers back at me and gently says, “I think the
best thing for you to do is forget about what just happened.”
I shake my head and lean forward. “Are you kidding
me?”
My brain races as quickly as my pulse while I try to
make sense of what just went down and piece the facts together.
What’s a wolf doing in the middle of the city? Are there even any
zoos near here? And then there’s the most troubling question of
all, one that manages to be said aloud: “What was your dog doing
out there?”
Amara’s shoulders tense. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him out there,” I continue, beginning to
regain my composure. “I noticed the chain around his neck when I
looked back, just like the one your dog wears.”
“It is not possible.”
No, of course, it isn’t. The oxygen must have left
my brain. Amara moves from the window to the small kitchen, where I
watch her set about boiling water and taking tea towels from
drawers. A rustle at the door causes me to tense up irrationally.
Of course, a wolf can’t open a door. It is Arden who enters the
flat. I feel myself go pale at the sight of him, all disheveled
hair and smears of blood on his face. It also looks like he’s
bleeding through his shirt, but I can’t say for sure because it’s
black. After closing the door behind him, he unbuttons and pulls
off the top, and there’s no question about it. There are
serious-looking scratches across the muscles on his chest and
torso. I watch as he takes Amara’s position at the window, staring
out as though expecting something. He glances over his shoulder at
me, but I’m too absorbed by the
“This is not the place to be discussing my
feelings.”
“We have to call the police, or animal control, or
something. Just because you own a big dog―”
“Listen.” Her dark eyes pierce straight through
me. “Believe me when I say that would be neither prudent nor
useful.”
I stare at her incredulously.
“What do I need to say to convince you to keep
moving?”
Arden, a good fifty paces from us, barks angrily,
“ Que
fait-il ?”
I turn to look. He appears to be squaring off
against the creature. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Listen, you fool, your life’s in grave
danger.”
Danger, grave danger at that, yet here I stand
firmly rooted to the ground.
“So’s yours.”
He curses in French.
“Please, Connor,” Amara implores.
The animal steps fully into the light, and then
there’s no question of what we’re facing. Through and through a
snarling, angry wolf. Suddenly a wave of panic washes over me, and
I find myself running by Amara’s side. It doesn’t even matter to me
at this point that we’re losing Arden in the distance. I glance
quickly over my shoulder, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Amazingly,
it looks like the wolf has gotten into a fight with another big
dog. I break my pace to watch. They begin circling each other,
hunkered down and snarling, two predators about to go head-to-head.
All I can focus on is the pure animal aggression in the flash of
their fangs and low growls. As one beast lunges at the other, the
light catches something gold glinting around the neck of one of
them. It’s Lou. I almost stop completely, but Amara urges me
ahead.
I’m winded in minutes. I can barely catch my breath
because of the painful stitch in my side, yet I keep running. We
eventually slow down as Amara leads me up the stairs to the flat. I
pant uncontrollably, and she’s barely broken a sweat. Her only sign
of exertion is slightly heavier breathing. Otherwise, I’d say she
just came back from a brisk stroll. I follow her into the
apartment, where I promptly collapse onto an armchair and close my
eyes, trying to will the pain away. Even my legs feel the
exhaustion from the sudden burst of energy.
“You ― I ― need ― explain...”
Amara stands statue-still by the window. She doesn’t
respond immediately, and I wonder if the words were just incoherent
noise. Finally, she peers back at me and gently says, “I think the
best thing for you to do is forget about what just happened.”
I shake my head and lean forward. “Are you kidding
me?”
My brain races as quickly as my pulse while I try to
make sense of what just went down and piece the facts together.
What’s a wolf doing in the middle of the city? Are there even any
zoos near here? And then there’s the most troubling question of
all, one that manages to be said aloud: “What was your dog doing
out there?”
Amara’s shoulders tense. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him out there,” I continue, beginning to
regain my composure. “I noticed the chain around his neck when I
looked back, just like the one your dog wears.”
“It is not possible.”
No, of course, it isn’t. The oxygen must have left
my brain. Amara moves from the window to the small kitchen, where I
watch her set about boiling water and taking tea towels from
drawers. A rustle at the door causes me to tense up irrationally.
Of course, a wolf can’t open a door. It is Arden who enters the
flat. I feel myself go pale at the sight of him, all disheveled
hair and smears of blood on his face. It also looks like he’s
bleeding through his shirt, but I can’t say for sure because it’s
black. After closing the door behind him, he unbuttons and pulls
off the top, and there’s no question about it. There are
serious-looking scratches across the muscles on his chest and
torso. I watch as he takes Amara’s position at the window, staring
out as though expecting something. He glances over his shoulder at
me, but I’m too absorbed by the
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