Does it feel like home?

The tall, winged wolf pauses, catching her scent on the wind but unable to find her. Well, unable to find until she noisily breaks cover moments later to trot up alongside him. Wide, pale blue stare up at him with great wonder and, noticing the small smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, Andy breaks into a warm grin of her own. Tail begins to wag as he produces her name and the pup’s eyes round with astonishment at the fact that this really amazing wolf knows her name. Wordlessly, the girl nods her agreement while her mouth opens slightly in reverence.

Then he asks if she remembers him. Ears fold back as little Andy racks her brain, trying to find this wolf and his name among the short catalog of wolves she knows. Sheepishly, she shakes her head in the negative, saying softly, “I… I’m sorry but I don’t remember.” Was she supposed to? In fact, she is pretty sure if she had met him before, she would remember. I mean, real, live wings on a wolf! Clearing her throat and stalling the swirl of nonsensical thoughts in her mind, she politely introduces herself, “Uh, you can call me Andy... if you want. You… you’re one of us, right? My mom and dad are yours too?”

It is an innocent question, wrapped in the folly of a youth that is too enthralled with the stranger’s wings to remember that she has an older sibling that fits his description. The wing that is on her side has some feather’s that droop toward the earth and she slowly lifts a paw toward one, asking, “Do… do you’re wings molt like birds’ feathers do?” Andy does not take her eyes off the beautiful feathers as she slowly reaches toward them, remembering the way birds often molt in Spring time and wondering what he would look like if that happened. Wait… do wing feathers molt at all? Questions swirl in the youngster’s head.


"Andromeda Fatalis"