A howl of Willow

With a start, I scramble out of bed, the coolness of the wooden floor sending a shiver through my feet. My mind races as the image of a wolf flickers through my thoughts. The night is steeped in mystery, and the sounds outside draw me in like a siren's call. I strain my ears, captivated by the haunting melody that fills the air—each note sung with an otherworldly precision that seems to reach out to the vast expanse of stars overhead. The wolf’s voice weaves an enchanting symphony, perfectly in tune with the shimmering constellations, creating an ethereal connection between the wild and the celestial.

I dart toward the window, my heart racing in response to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me—hope and dread intertwining like tendrils of mist. Pressing my forehead against the cool glass, I strain my eyes to pierce through the enveloping darkness outside. In that stillness, a vivid shadow begins to take shape in my mind, evoking the haunting silhouette of a wolf, a profound reminder of Willow, my cherished wolf-dog hybrid who had crossed the Rainbow Bridge. The memory washes over me with bittersweet clarity, and the ache in my chest deepens, relentless and familiar. I can almost see her gentle, amber eyes—full of wisdom and loyalty—gazing up at me, a bright beacon of unconditional love that once warmed my soul. Moments spent together flood my mind, and I feel a heavy weight settle in my heart, tethering me to a past that I both long for and can revisit, and yet cannot reclaim.

I fling open the heavy wooden door of my bedroom, the creaking hinges echoing in the stillness. My heart races as I scan the dimly lit hall, shadows flickering ominously across the walls like ghosts from another time. The chilling howl that had permeated the air moments ago gradually subsides, fading into an eerie silence, only to be replaced by a high-pitched whine that sends shivers down my spine. The sound lingers for a heartbeat before vanishing completely, leaving behind a void as unsettling as the absence of Willow herself.

Moments later, my lively Vallhund came racing towards me, his short, sturdy legs scrambling for traction as he came to a sudden stop. I couldn't help but half-yell at him, frustration rising in my voice, but he just stood there, gazing up at me with innocent eyes, tongue lolling out to one side, and tail wagging energetically. He simply didn’t comprehend my distress, and no matter how hard I tried, I knew I couldn’t make him understand.

With a forceful shove, I slam my door shut, the sound reverberating through the quiet house. I stagger back to my bed, the weight of the darkness pressing down on me. From outside my room, another spine-chilling chorus of howling fills the night air. It echoes eerily, strikingly reminiscent of a wolf's mournful call, but I know better. Volk, my spirited Vallhund, is no wolf—his sleek gray coat and expressive eyes bearing testament to his true nature. Despite his wolf-like appearance, he is just a loyal companion, though in the darkness of this moment, his voice sends a shiver down my spine.

The next morning, I opened my door to find Volk sprawled unceremoniously in a tangled heap just outside. His tousled fur caught the early sunlight, casting a soft glow around him as he slept, blissfully unaware of the world. Meanwhile, my mind raced, thoughts colliding with each other like a chaotic storm. Images of Willow flickered through my mind, urgent and insistent, as if I could still save her.

I shuffled past Volk, tears in my eyes. I run to the kitchen, where my mom is stuffing her purse and getting ready for work. We greet each other as though we’re nothing but friends, and when I sniffle back my tears, she asks what’s wrong. I explain what had happened last night and then continue getting ready for school without a word.

My parents got me Volk three years ago when I was twelve. He wasn’t quite a puppy, but he was still small, with those big, curious eyes and boundless energy typical of young dogs. At that time, Willow was still very much a part of my life, full of life and energy. I never wanted another dog because Willow was my world. She was my loyal companion, and I couldn't imagine sharing that bond with another.

But my parents were insistent. They kept bringing up the idea of getting another dog, and I couldn't understand why. It baffled me because I thought our family was complete with Willow. They kept telling me that Willow might feel less lonely with a new companion. It was a reasoning that never quite settled with me. Deep down, I think they were too scared to tell me the truth. They must have known that Willow's time with us was limited, and they wanted to cushion the inevitable loss.

Volk was brought in with the hope that he would eventually fill the void that Willow would leave behind. The more I think about it, the more I realize that their insistence was a way to prepare me for the hard times ahead. They wanted me to have another source of comfort and companionship, someone who could ease the pain of losing Willow when that time came.

Even though the reason for getting Volk was Willow, it was clear that she wasn’t lonely. She never showed signs of needing another canine companion. But looking back now, I understand that my parents were thinking ahead, trying to protect me from the deep sense of loss they knew I would eventually face. And in the end, Volk did become a crucial part of my life, especially after Willow was gone. He became the companion I needed, even if I didn’t realize it at the time.

As I stepped through the front door after school, Volk bounded towards me with his usual enthusiasm, his tail wagging energetically and eyes gleaming with excitement. I knelt down to give him a quick scratch behind the ears, feeling the familiar warmth of his fur beneath my fingertips. After a moment, I hooked his leash onto his collar and headed out for our afternoon walk.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the neighborhood as we started our stroll. I made a conscious effort to keep my gaze directed at my shoes. The rhythm of my footsteps sounded solid against the pavement, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I had to stay grounded. With each step, I focused intently on the laces of my sneakers, hoping to avoid any unwanted memories that might surface. The world around us faded slightly, filled only with the sound of leaves rustling in the gentle breeze and Volk’s enthusiastic sniffing as he explored the scents of our familiar route.

Suddenly, Volk came to an abrupt halt, his body tense and his tail standing erect, signaling alarm. He unleashed a series of barks—one sharp bark followed by another, each one more insistent than the last. There was an edge to his voice, a tone that felt far less friendly than his usual playful demeanor. I tried to focus on the worn laces of my sneakers, but an inexplicable pull urged me to look up. My gaze first landed on Volk, who remained fixated on something in the distance. 

We stood in front of the sprawling park, the lush green grass stretching out before us, but the vibrant world around us seemed to fade into the background as I noticed his deepening agitation. “Stop barking!” I called out, my voice rising in urgency. “Volk, stop!” I repeated, nearly screaming now, my words punctuated by a mix of fear and desperation.

At last, he fell silent and turned his gaze toward me, his expressive eyes reflecting both confusion and alertness. In that moment, an unsettling stillness enveloped everything around us. The usual sounds of the park—the laughter of children, the rustling leaves, the distant chatter—were eerily absent. My heart raced as something compelled me to look beyond the softly waving grass and into the shadowy embrace of the woods.

There, standing poised just beyond the treeline, was a magnificent creature: a wolf, its presence both haunting and majestic. It stood with an impossibly pristine white coat that shimmered in the muted light, and its bronze eyes, piercing and unyielding, seemed to penetrate my very soul. I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. As if summoned by some ancient instinct, the wolf threw its head back and howled. The sound was wild, echoing through the trees and sending a shiver down my spine. 

My eyes, no longer under my control, followed the echo of the howl. They drifted upward, drawn toward the sky, where the massive, glowing moon hung high above us—wait, the moon? It’s broad daylight! Just as the realization hit me, the world around us plunged into darkness, as if someone had pulled a heavy curtain down over reality.

The next thing I knew, I found myself awakening in the familiarity of my own bed, the soft sheets tangled around my legs. As I threw off the covers, a wave of confusion washed over me, only to be interrupted by an unexpected startle from Volk who had been peacefully curled up at my feet. 

I rubbed my eyes and blinked away the remnants of sleep, casting a frantic glance out the window. The night enveloped the world outside in a ominous blanket of darkness, yet the warm glow of my bedroom lights spilled into the room, creating a cozy cocoon. 

Just then, Volk let out a sharp bark that broke the stillness, causing me to jump slightly. I turned to see him looking up at me, his expression calm and tired, as if reassuring me that everything was just fine. With a gentle nudge and a soft whine, he seemed to beckon me back to bed, as though encouraging me to let go of my worries and find comfort in rest once more.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling my chest rise and fall until each breath flowed steadily, calming the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. As I gathered my composure, I walked over to the wall and flicked the light switch off, plunging the room into soft darkness. The quiet enveloped me like a warm blanket as I slowly sank back into the comfort of my bed, the sheets cool against my skin. I nestled into the pillows, letting the stillness wash over me, hoping to drift into a peaceful slumber.

Yet, a few minutes later I opened my eyes. I slowly lowered my gaze to my feet, where I felt Volk’s familiar warmth and weight. Expecting to see his comforting form, I was jolted by the sight that met me instead. Lying there, in place of my loyal Vallhund, was a wolf.

Its fur is charcoal black, blending seamlessly with the shadows, and its stunning orange eyes gleam in the dim light, capturing the ambient glow and reflecting it back like burning embers. At first, it doesn't notice me, its gaze sweeping the room with a detached calm. But then, those piercing eyes lock onto mine.

My heart pounds as I scramble out of bed, my feet hitting the cool wooden floor with a soft thud. I rush to the light switch on the wall, my hand trembling as I reach for it. Just before I flip the switch, though, I glance back at the wolf. It has stepped forward, emerging fully into view, its powerful body moving with a grace that is both intimidating and mesmerizing.

The wolf's fur glistens in the dim light, drawing attention to the intricate patterns of its coat. Its eyes remain locked on me, its intensity unwavering. In that moment, I realize it’s not as frightening as I initially believed. There is a depth to its gaze, a silent communication that conveys something beyond mere wild instinct.

Cautiously, I approach the majestic wolf, my steps deliberate as time seems to stand still. Kneeling on the cool ground, I feel the weight of the moment as I lock eyes with the creature, its gaze holding me in an unspoken connection.

The wolf stands before me, its gaze intense and contemplative, with orange eyes that shimmer like sunlight filtering through leaves. Its sleek, dark fur glistens in the moonlight, revealing subtle shades, while each sinewy muscle highlights its powerful, graceful form. Poised and alert, the wolf captures the essence of the wild, entirely focused on the moment.

But just then, an astonishing transformation begins. The formidable figure of the wolf, once towering and majestic, starts to diminish right before my eyes. Its long, powerful legs, which seemed capable of endless speed and strength, retract as though being pulled by an unseen force. The elegant curve of its tail shrinks into a mere flicker of fur, losing all the grace it once had. “No!” The word escapes my lips as a breathless whisper at first, but it swiftly escalates into a desperate yell, echoing against the silent backdrop.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting against the tide of tears that threaten to spill over. Memories of Willow flood my mind—her love, her warmth—but it all feels so fragile now. When I finally gather the courage to open my eyes again, my heart races. The wolf is gone, just as Willow has vanished from my life. In its place stands Volk, a stark reminder of everything I had just lost. My heart sinks as the reality of the moment crashes over me, leaving the hollow ache that I know well to consume me.

Well, Willow, don’t be scared for me. I’m fine, really. I have another wolf named Volk. He’s nothing like you, but he’s enough. He tangles into the shadows at night. His voice reaches the stars. And he has eyes like a fire, fierce and flaming, that stare through me. And remind me of you.