That most profound of sensations, when one finds oneself holding the tail of the wolf as it calmly sashays into his den full of bones and flowers. Flowers once in the hair of sweet-faced innocent girls trusting his bold eyes and sure jaw. What is one little adventure to the den? It can only be so painful since we know what to expect. Yet…somehow, it is still such a painful sting. He lays down on the cool stone floor and with his brown eyes, implores you to be seated, which you cautiously do. He slowly places his head onto your lap and you cradle it, running your fingers tenderly through his coarse, earthy hair. You stroke the face and jaw of this powerful creature, so innocent and prone in your arms. He has lowered himself into YOUR lap, YOUR caring hands, YOU alone seem to be his surrender. You bask in the idea that this vicious wolf that so many fear and warn you of has decided to come to peace in you. Oh, that cunning, pitiful wolf. He roams and howls with lonely abandon, he feels it truly, but he will never change it. He is bred to wander and devour the happy and innocent.
Now that he seems to be more vulnerable than ever before, you relax and begin to dream of the beauty the wolf could see through your eyes and you through his. The wooded trails, the mountain tracks, the cool streams and blue skies, you drift. You steep yourself in the bliss of what could be, feeling special, feeling unique. You close your eyes and relax onto his warm strong neck, scented with woods and cedar…
…before you know it, he opens his mouth and you fall into the gleaming jaws and deep empty beyond. He has demolished you and left your flower crown and ribbons on the floor of his cave. Just one more lassie among the many. Tricked, wooed, betrayed.
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