I decided to go out and look for my wolf. He'd been gone for nearly three months now, and I was getting desperate. I wanted to see his blue eyes again. Needed to see his blue eyes again.
I began to pack a few pairs of clothes, food, blankets, and many other things. I ripped a piece of paper out of my notebook, found a pencil, and began to scribble down a note to my mom:
I've gone out on a little camping trip with Carls, and I won't be back until Monday morning. So, don't try to contact me or her family. We won't have any reception out in the woods. I'll tell you if anything bad happens while I was gone. See ya' Monday. Love you, mom.
I set the note neatly on the granite top table, then walked over to the back door. I took a deep breath, then turned the knob and stepped outside.
A rush of cool air blasted against my face. It was the middle of winter in Wisconsin. I began to walk through the shallow snow, my boots damp and heavy. My teeth chattered and goosebumps rose on my arms. I knew it was cold, but I didn't think it was going to be freezing. I probably should've gotten my heavier coat, but whatever.
I stepped into the forest, dead tree branches hanging low over my head. Thorns caught onto the rims of my jeans and ripped small holes into them. It was annoying, but worth it. I had to find my wolf. I just had to.