In the time I still had left, I enjoyed my tea and the bread as best as I could while throwing a glance or two towards my newfound companion, who had curled up into a ball of messy gray fur in front of the still warm stove and was sleeping peacefully once again. As I stood up to take care of the dirty dishes he lifted his head a few centimeters, not quite awake but just about conscious enough to watch me for a short while before letting the warmth radiating from the oven take him back to dream land. I was quite relieved to see his interest in my every move had diminished greatly, allowing me to complete the most urgent of tasks in peace before having to hurry to the station. Just as I was tying the laces on my black leather boots, I heard tapping sounds, or rather the sound of something continuously clicking against the stone tiles of the kitchen floor. I looked up to find the boy in wolf's clothing making his way to the front door.

Was he about to leave my house, maybe to never return? Now that his hunger was satisfied, would he leave and roam the forest?

The only answer I got was yawning, accompanied by extensive back stretches. Shimmering in a ray of light coming from the window next to the door were his sharp claws, his impressive fangs and the subtle indication of moist on the tip of his snout. He sat down next to the door and watched me tend to my boots. At that moment I was especially eager to know about his past, in particular with other humans. He clearly had some sort of understanding of what humans did in their daily lives and how a canine companion is expected to behave. He could have easily opened the door like he did yesterday, if not as an animal, he could simply switch into his humanoid form.

Realizing I was already in a hurry and was just wasting time with these thoughts, I gathered my things and unlocked the door.

"I'll have to teach you my language very soon."

A huffing sound was his response. I waited just a moment before opening the door, just a moment more to turn towards him and give him a bright smile. Maybe he even wagged his tail a little bit in response. Just as I gave the wood a good push, he slipped past me, his wiry fur brushing against my calves, and disappeared into the woods.

I sighed. Of course I was worried that the occasional huntsmen patrolling throughout the area could get him, but I was also confident in his ability to defend himself. At least he wasn't starving anymore.

I don't need to repeat my everyday cycle, do I? Nowadays it's probably even more common than all those years ago. People struggling to stay alive, treading a fine line between being terribly unkempt and just about tolerable, not even children spared from this madness. There was this co-worker of mine, she once brought her son with her to work and got fired soon after due to "improper behavior". She couldn't find someone to take care of the little guy, the nanny she had hired had quit her job the day before. Of course, there were kindergardens around, even a child care section on the first floor of the building, but the way the children there were treated was horrible. All the dirt and dust, combined with the ever present smell of cigarettes and industrial smoke, killed off the premature sparkling in their eyes swiftly. Some started getting used to all this to the degree of becoming anxious if their lungs weren't filled with dirt and ash. Thus, they filled even their relatively clean homes with the troubles of the outside world by stealing cigarettes or leaving their window open all day without activating the filtering system built into almost all homes. If they weren't part of the slum, that is.

But enough of that. This is supposed to be a happy story, not a depressing one. I'm glad I was raised near the forest, where the trees took care of keeping the air fresh and healthy.

I returned back home and as I opened my letter box, I noticed that Yurkas hadn't been here yet. This was very unusual, because he liked to visit me and have a chat even when he didn't have any mail for me. Sometimes he didn't make it in time to reach my house before I left, in which case he left a note in my letter box, wishing me a nice day and apologizing for being late. There was none. I was getting worried at this point. What if he had had an accident? I decided to pay a visit to his home. As I made my way along a dirt path near the edge of the forest, I heard a rustling coming from somewhere close to me, somewhere in the tall grass to the left of the trail.

It moved rather quickly, from side to side, to and fro, the thin green straws moving vividly. I tried my best to focus on it, but it was too quick and I was too tired to concentrate properly. Not to mention it was getting dark. Instinctively, I took a few steps backwards, away from the shivering grass. My right hand glid to the pocket of my coat, feeling up the shape of a small and slender knife. Suddenly, the rustling stopped and the sharp blades of grass froze. Like time had stopped. I couldn't move a muscle. I felt like I was gradually, at a painfully slow rate, losing my sense of touch and the shape of the knife became foggy, like it was made out of ice, slowly melting away from my own body heat. It felt like an eternity had passed when I was finally kicked back to my senses by the sound of a gunshot, followed by a weak howl and something hurrying deeper into the thicket.

"That was close."

Someone stood right beside me, wielding a gun and pointing it towards the woods, then slowly lowering it with a satisfied, but mostly concerned look on their face.

"Dammit Arka, what are you even doing here? It's dangerous being this close to the forest, especially when it's getting dark."

"I know, I… I was just worried-"

"Yeah, you're worried alright. Just look at how pale you are..."

I was relieved to see that Yurkas was alright. He didn't seem to be hurt, or at least I didn't notice anything unusual.

"At least you aren't. I'm out here because you forgot all about me, you know." I said and gave him a tired smile.

Now Yurkas was the one going pale.

"Really? I'm sorry Arka, I was just incredibly busy this morning, and since Erick has fallen ill I had to do all the work by myself."

Erick is the name of Yurkas' eldest son. I didn't know him very well since he had always been much more timid than his parents and especially his father. Whenever I met him though or saw him talking to other people, he was very friendly and sometimes, by choosing the right topics, he came out of his shell with enthusiasm, only then creeping back in when he noticed how people either became disinterested or let him talk on and on without saying a word, just being happy about being able to witness this side of him.

"I'm sure he'll feel better soon. Anyways, why are you here? And since when do you know how to shoot?"

Yurkas sighed deeply and hung the gun over his shoulder with the belt attached to its wooden body.

"When I carried out the mail this morning, I noticed something strange. Something smelled...rotten. I followed the smell because it was too strong to simply ignore and then I saw it. Taiga's chicken coop had been broken into. Six chicken laid dead on the ground, mauled and torn apart. Huge bite marks on all of them."

I could see from the distorted expression on his face that he was trying his best not to throw up.

"So I thought, this could have been a fox, but it would have been a very large one. Plus, there haven't been any cases of a massacre like this in a long time. So I figured, this was the work of something worse than a fox."

He didn't have to say it out loud, but he did anyway.

"I'm thinking a wolf has done this. And I'm hoping to the Gods above that he hasn't brought his pack with him."

A wolf has done this.