Big Salmon Lake heavy

she is quick on the heels of a hare, the pair charging through the reeds. each twist and turn is mirrored by the wolf as she follows, teeth bared, hackles pricked. a few seconds longer, and then the game is over. she fails to react just as quickly on a turn, and the hare seizes the advantage suddenly offered to it. a few more seconds, and it is gone. 

panting, the woman allows herself to feel disappointment a moment before turning toward the lake, seeking to slacken her thirst. her shoulders slouch; she is thin, and can not miss many meals more. the problem could be solved by joining a pack; but she can not allow herself to do. she is accompanied by a heaviness everywhere, now, and her acceptance of her curse does not mean she is without fear, uncertainty. she remembers slavering jaws and those frantic, unseeing eyes, and each time she finds herself wanting for a pack, a family again, she remembers the destruction the single white wolf wrought. and when she hopes, and wonders at her apparent health, doubt comes in the form of nightmares. 

she reaches the bank and drinks deeply, putting aside such thoughts as her gaze slips over the vast waters before her.