I've seen the red wolf, a regal and protective mother clad in bristling auburn fur.
She stares at me cautiously, her eyes burning with hate and grim admiration. She remembers far back of our ancestors, weak and frail creatures that harnessed terrible powers in the forming of jagged fangs grasped in their hands or long branches sprouting fire. She growls as I try to come closer, baring her white fangs. Her fur stands on edge and as I back away, I realize why she acts so protective. Out of the corner of my eye I see two small pups, fur as red as their mothers and eyes staring at me with curiosity to match their mother's eyes glazed with fear.
I hold my hands up and back away, distancing myself far enough that the mother stops snarling. She looks at me one last time before urging her pups inside the den. One of them attempts to get closer to me, like a child seeing a strange and exotic animal for the very fist time at the zoo. And like a stern mother she gently grabs the child in her mouth, carrying her away from a creature both fascinating and terrifying as her.
Let the red furred mother rest easy in her den. Let her feel safe and content alongside her young, her pups as young and curious as our own. There is peace now but sooner or later man will come again. Maybe he will come with little in mind than to walk around and enjoy nature's beauty. But if he should come with the intent on bringing pain to the red furred wolf and her pups she will strike at him with unmatched ferocity. Fury that can only come from a mother who has learned so much about the destructiveness and dangers of our kind.
She is a Red Wolf, yet more.