Once upon a time in a wild, wild world there were two wolf brothers living in their home lair with their papa wolf.

They lived in peace . . . until hunters took their dad away.

The wolf brothers wandered for days and nights, learning to live on their own for the first time.

That's when the big brother learned that the little one was not an ordinary wolf . . . but a super wolf!

They decided to head south to the distant land of their ancestors . . . but the journey was long and dangerous.

Still, the wolf brothers made new friends along the way.

But danger always followed them.

And ran afoul a cult of coyotes.

And reunited with their mother wolf.

And were attacked by more hunters.

But the whole time, the big brother worried about what kind of wolf the little one would be.

In the end, escaping to the land of their ancestors meant asking the little wolf to maul the hunters, to rip out their throats. And the big brother could not ask him to do something so cruel.

So the big brother let himself be taken.

And the hunters locked him in a cage, where all day, the big brother paced back and forth.

Though he knew he did the right thing, being trapped ate at him because freedom is like oxygen to a wolf.

So one day, the big brother chewed open his own paws.

The big brother lived, and like before, he thinks of that day so long ago, when he was happy with his brother and their papa in their den.

And he would give anything to go back, to stop the hunters from taking his dad away.

Episode One – Walls

Chapter One

Soundtrack - Intro: "Train Song"

cover by Feist and Ben Gibbard

Washington State Penitentiary

December 2022

Five Years After the Incidents at the Border

The guard's hand is firm on Sean Diaz's arm. It doesn't endure him to the other prisoners, but the guards mostly like him. Even though he is in for killing a cop, and about a half-dozen other crimes, they all feel sorry for him. He is twenty-two years old, but they think of him as "that poor kid."

The door to the visiting room swings open, and usually the visits with his brother (and sometimes grandparents) are the only thing Sean has to look forward to in his sad life. In the drudgery of prison, visiting day is like a Christmas that comes every two weeks. But today, Sean cannot lift his head. He cannot look his brother in the eye. Maybe if he doesn't look at Daniel, Daniel won't look at him.

But his shame is obvious. It's covered in the thick, white bandages that are wrapped around his wrists. He cut himself so deeply that the bandage on his right arm is wrapped almost to the wolf tattoo a friend drew on his forearm a lifetime ago.

He shuffles into the visiting room where other prisoners are meeting with wives and distant children. And he hears his brother's voice call, "Hey, Sean!" It's gotten noticeably deeper, just in the past two weeks, but it has the same excitement as always. Deep down, Sean knows some of that is a show for his sake. You sacrificed everything for me, so I have to be happy so you know I appreciate it. But the love in it is always genuine, and, even from the darkness he's in now, it lifts his heart.

"Hey, enano," Sean says as he reaches the table. Daniel hugs him so tight that bones pop. And usually Sean hugs him back just as hard. But today, he barely has the strength to lift his arms. So he just buries his face in his brother's neck—the fifteen-year-old is almost as tall as him—and sighs.

The guards don't like it if the prisoners make contact with their families for too long. Sean feels Daniel let go, and they fall into the chairs at a small, metal table that's bolted to the floor. A long quiet settles between them, Sean staring at the bandages. Though he doesn't look up, he knows Daniel is staring at them too.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asks.

"It's nothing," Sean says.

"I got real worried when you didn't call this week."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"You want to tell me about the bandages?"

"I'd rather you tell me about how your Twitch channel is going or what you're doing now that soccer is over."

"Now that soccer is over, I mostly stream Fortnite on Twitch and have 200 followers, but half of those are kids I go to school with. Now, tell me about the bandages."

"They're nothing."

"Bullshit," Daniel says. "Sean, we don't lie to each other. Please don't lie to me about this."

Sean sets his face in his hands, obscuring his one good eye. It's not to hold back tears. Though he is sad, it is the kind of sadness that has settled into his bones. It's not the kind you cry about. It's the kind you carry, like a weight that you cannot set down. It's a baby thought, but there's something about not looking at Daniel that makes it feel like Daniel can't see him when he says, "I didn't call this week because I am in solitary on suicide watch."

"Sean, you didn't," Daniel says.

"I did. Guilty as charged." He holds up his hands, to play it off like a criminal surrendering. He thinks it's a pretty good joke, but Daniel doesn't laugh.

Instead, Daniel just stares. Stiff-lipped. He looks years older than he is, and Sean swears he sees wrinkles under the kid's eyes. Sometimes Sean forgets that Daniel went through as much shit as he did.

"Sean, how could you do that?"

"It's prison. They teach you how to make a shiv on day one. Most people use them on someone else, but it turns out, it's a lot better to just use it on yourself because it's easier to get your target to stay still."

"Stop joking. How could you try to take your own life? That's a mortal sin."

Sean rolls his eye. His brother lives with their grandmother who is super-Christian, and it grates at him that Daniel has started going to church. Especially after everything that happened with Lisbeth. "You know I don't buy into the God thing." He didn't believe before, but he believes less now that "God" made life get so shitty.

"I know you don't," Daniel says, "but you don't have to believe in God or Hell to see it's a sin. What do you think killing yourself would do the people who love you? I lost Dad, our life in Seattle—did you even think what losing you would do to me?"

And Sean looks at him, directly with his one good eye, and says coldly, "I'm sorry that I made one choice one time where I wasn't thinking of you."

As soon as he says it, Sean wishes he could take the words back. Because they strike Daniel like a slap. The boy is still sitting there, but it's like his skeleton collapses, like his bones can't hold up his shoulders anymore. His head falls, his shaggy hair hiding his face. And he trembles, just slightly, just enough for Sean to know his little brother is holding in tears.

"Hey, enano, I didn't mean that," Sean says. "That was stupid of me."

For a long time, Daniel doesn't say anything. Then, quietly, his voice cracking: "I'm sorry."

"For what, bro? You didn't cut my wrists open." Sean tries to make it sound like a joke.

"Yes I did. Because I'm the reason you're here."

"That isn't true, Daniel," Sean says. "I'm here because of my choices and my decisions. And because of a deeply broken justice system. None of that has anything to do with what you did. Come on, man, please don't beat yourself up. Please don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"No you're not!" Daniel shouts. A tremor goes through the room. The windows vibrate. Tables shake. Sean's chair moves, just half an inch. Guards, prisoners, family members—they look around, thinking they have just felt a small earthquake. But Sean knows different. There's a fire in Daniel's eyes, one that he helped his brother learn to control. But one that still flares up from time to time. Daniel takes a breath, steadies himself. His words come out measured, but angry. "You tried to kill yourself, you dumbass. You are not fine."

Sean drums his fingers on the table. For six years, his life has been defined by protecting his little brother. Even when it meant doing something stupid. "I am okay, Daniel."

"You are not supposed to fucking lie to me, Sean."

it's so many miles and so long since i've met you

don't even know what i'll find when i get to you