Coyote Jones

Wolf Dream

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We were running along what looked like the Bruce Trail. Five of us. We were travelling for miles and miles and miles with no destination in sight. We were people sometimes and wolves sometimes. There were no transformations that I remember: we were suddenly either one or the other. Wolves who shifted human. It was daylight, and an endless valley of trees was to our left and a thick forest to our right. We ran along a path and then stepped carefully along a "bridge" of a fallen log covered in vines. The drop was deadly. We all made it, me with a song in my heart and zero fucks to give. We made it to a rocky, earthy hill without trees. At the summit, we stood breathless, and someone cried out in amazement. A precipice dropped off below us into an endless, dazzling territory of far-off hills in coloured silt and sand, reminiscent of the Badlands of South Dakota, but so deep down and far away that I couldn't imagine ever descending the slope into the maze of desertlike hills. It had a mesmeric, unearthly quality. I slid down the slope a bit and dusted myself in the rocky dirt and stared into that distance.

We were bone-weary. Night was falling. There were no good sleeping places, only brushy hills, and a distant part of my mind knew it would be appropriate for a coyote, but not for me now, not in this wolf body. We went off adventuring through fallen logs intricately networked and suspended by vines and other dead trees. Living trees sheltered us. The light was scarce. A male grey wolf, the alpha, having watched my movements, followed my path from a few minutes ago and set out into a makeshift canopy of dead logs and living trees, balancing, catlike, on a rotting log. He leapt onto a treehouse of dead wood. "Come this way," he said to us, either speaking in English or communicating intuitively.

We were wary, but we needed rest, so we stretched out among branches in wolf shape reasonably comfortably and in human shape uncomfortably. Two of my packmates were missing, off wandering. I howled for them.

Soon enough, my packmates returned. They weren't alone. They were being trailed by strange wolves, seven of them. The strange pack meandered beneath us, watching us. The alpha, a black wolf, spoke in an accent that sounded vaguely Texan (?). His tone was confident and mocking. As a human, he was caucasian and American.

"Please," I said, now human and placating. "We know this is your territory. We won't stay long. We need to rest for the night. We'll be gone in the morning."

The black alpha made a few snarky comments while his pack milled about. "Fine," he decided. "Be gone by dawn."

But he lied. The territorial wolves came back after night fell, the moment we were most vulnerable. They swarmed us and attacked my pack of grey wolves.

We scrambled, posturing among trees and vines, snarling and growling. The black wolf climbed the edifice easily and came face to face with our grey alpha.

And suddenly I found myself attacking in his place, unafraid of injury. Snapping jaws met faces. Claws met eyes. My only knowledge of street fighting: Go for the eyes. Growling, slashing, blood matting fur. I wanted him dead. Risking my own balance, I shoved at him with my body. Claws skittered on rotting wood. I shoved again. The alpha slipped sideways and went tumbling into the sharp brush far below. His pack scattered and disappeared beneath the trees.

I felt physical pain, but that was nothing new. I looked down at the broken wolf body. I looked around for my packmates, who were panting and restless.


Here the dream ended and I found myself in my childhood house. I remembered the wolves and I wanted to go back, but I would never know where that place was. My parents were screaming at each other. My grandmother was there, my blonde grandmother on my mother's side who died when I was a toddler. She was beautiful. She was dying of cancer. She had driven here from her quiet house somewhere near the forest, off a leafy trail with vines and dead branches and a treed valley nearby.

She gave me something. Dice? I wandered. I looked at the walls. How things had changed. A photo of me as a blonde toddler adorned the hallway entrance. I took a white marker from my pocket and added a caption to the photo, in a slightly cursive print:

BECAUSE FUCK YOU
THAT'S WHY

Then I went to my childhood playground. I dug into the sand and the pebbles, deeper, deeper, hurting my knuckles, finally exhuming a toy in the shape of a black wolf. I thought for a moment before re-burying it cautiously, redistributing the sand and pebbles so that no one would ever think to dig there.

I woke up feeling off-kilter for hours.

Animal Energy - Wolf by Ravenari. A friend shared this link with me a while ago.

I actually don't mind it. As far as spiritual/pagan sites go, it could be much worse. Not that that's a high bar, but you know what I mean.

Teacher Give-Away. Lack of Success. Disappointment. Loss. Regular Let Downs. Perseverance. Strength. Endurance. Giving Away Energy. Connecting With All to Connect to a Few. Solitude and Socialising. Teacher. Shepherd.

"Wolf represents all facets of perseverance, strength and endurance. Wolf comes into our lives to let us know that we can get through anything, and grief, sadness, loss and let downs aren't enough of an excuse to stop us from trying again and living our life to the fullest."

Unrelated: If I ever come to be the caretaker of male wolves or wolfdogs, I'm naming them Villi and Ve. Because Geri and Freki already take all the limelight.

I still feel strange. I don't know what it is.

Comments

  1. Niki's Avatar
    Wow! That sounds like an awesome dream! How ya been?