Don’t tell anyone, but I’m scared of the dark.
I know, I know. Wolves are nocturnal, we are the hunters of the night, blah blah blah. What nobody ever appreciates is that a lot of other big scary hunters are also nocturnal. If you ask me, it would make a lot more sense for wolves to be diurnal so we can hunt during daylight hours when not only can we see better, but also we’re less in danger of having something toothy jump out at us. If I were God, I’d’ve designed us differently. Just saying.
But even though I have this completely logical and legitimate fear, I also prefer to hang out in small dark spaces. That might sound weird to you, but in a little den like the one I was born in, it’s actually a lot safer. I can hide from all the things which want to eat me. If I pick a den which only has a single, tiny entrance (the kind you have to wiggle in and out of), then I only have to look in one direction to see anything coming and nothing can sneak up on me. Plus, nothing bigger than me can get at me anyway. The only downside is that there’s no way I can escape if something scary is blocking the only exit, like a bug. I hate bugs.
It’s been a really long, exhausting few weeks since I got separated from my family. I’ve walked until my feet bled, been chased by scary things, and hardly got a wink’s sleep at night because I’m too busy worrying about sneaking up on me. I want a proper sleep today. I want to find a new den.
I stand at the entrance of a cave, quivering. It’s a bigger cave than I’d like. What if there’s a bear inside? I take three steps forward and then another two back, dropping my tail between my legs.
Good job there’s no one around. Nothing to see here, just a small wolf who can’t walk into a cave.
Thalia, my sister, would be rolling her eyes at me now. No, she’d already have gone charging in. I take a deep breath, draw myself up to full height and step over the threshold, peering nervously around me. A labyrinth of tunnels lead off in different directions. I pick the smallest one and start down it, but before long my fur is standing up on end and my ears are lying flat against my head. A sudden sound makes me start. What was that?! Oh. It was water dripping from the ceiling. Another droplet falls onto my nose. Great.
It’s getting darker, and there’s no sign of a little dead-end tunnel I can use as a den. My paws are shaking as I step down on something soft, squishy and… wiggly. I squint down through the gloom, just able to make out the shape of something long and thin and moving.
Lord. Help. Me.
I can’t help it. A yowl wrenches itself from my lips and I bolt forward, desperate to get away. I don’t get very far before I smash into a rocky wall, because my name’s Lefteris and the universe hates me.
LEFTERIS
homeless year-old cub. bugs suck.