The Wolf in Me

The smell of damp earth and pine needles filled the air. Your camera felt familiar and comforting against your chest as you crouched, examining the bizarre remains of a rabbit. It didn't look right; twisted, broken, and missing bones, lying sprawled in a way that suggested something far stranger than a typical predator kill.
Nearby, you'd found three inexplicable black marks burned into the ground, spots of intense charring that smeared like ash when you touched them. Then, large paw prints that couldn't be coyotes, leading deeper into the woods. The forest, usually your sanctuary, felt subtly different today, charged with an unseen energy. Your friend Julia called out, pulling you back from your thoughts of strange discoveries.
Now, you stand at the edge of the woods, Julia and her dog Brutus beside you, the familiar highway sounds replacing the forest's symphony. The drive back to town is filled with Julia's easy chatter about university and shared classes, a stark contrast to the unsettling images burned into your mind. The world of predictable expectations and social dynamics looms, pulling you away from the wild freedom you crave and the unspoken questions the forest has raised. The future, and your place in it, feels uncertain, a tangled path between loyalty, desire, and a creeping sense that something hidden and dangerous is about to intrude upon your life.
