Duck Lake it heals and it haunts me.

Abel, however, did not seek to blend into the tranquility the lake provided. His presence was disruptive. His footsteps were heavy, though he meant them to be light. It was a necessity, he believed, one he failed to do in the midst of his panicked state.
When he slept the night before he was back in that prison. The bear-adoring wolves circles around him with their horrifically distorted faces. Their presence overwhelmed him. 
When he woke that morning he was reminded to put as much distance between him and them as possible. Another necessity he’d lacked in achieving. In truth he had hidden away most days, too afraid to move through the open fields lest he be captured again. But the adrenaline his nightmare gave was enough to push him into a hurried jog for that morning at the very least.
He’d failed to notice another wolf wading in the lake until he’d stumbled on his own feet and onto the bank. He gasped once as he fell and a second time when he took notice.
She’s one of them. He swiftly jumped to that conclusion as he stared at her like a deer in headlights. Abel stood cautiously and slowly began to creep backwards. He could only hope she hadn’t seen him yet.