Where am I? How did I get here? Golden eyes opened, first into small slits and then wider, head slowly rising so she could look around. She was laying on a bed of moss in a forest, but she had no clue what forest or why. Perky ears cupped and swiveled, taking in the cacophony of the forest. It was all normal; wind, trees swaying, leaves rustling, birds singing and rodents scurrying. No, it wasn’t all completely normal… there was another sound, low beneath it all, like far off static. She pondered for a moment… water, waves… she was near the ocean.
Black tipped nose twitched furiously as she scented the air. Yes, it confirmed her suspicions, salt and fish. She couldn’t be that far off from it. But, why did that matter, she suddenly realized. She wracked her brain, trying to remember how she got here, or why, but she couldn’t remember. What was going on? She wanted to panic, she knew she should panic, but there was some rock deep down within that kept her calm. It was almost like she had done this before, and knew that panicking never helped.
What she didn’t know – what she couldn’t remember – was that she had done this before. Over and over, waking up day after day in a panic, unable to remember what had happened or who she was. Each day she would frantically search for answers, hyperventilate, cry, scream, or simply lay in a catatonic lump of fur – all until she went to sleep, or fainted, only to wake up with no memory of the episode before and do it all over again.
Slowly, she got up to her paws. There didn’t seem to be any danger in the area, no scent of predators and the scent of other wolves was weak. She didn’t know where to go or what to do with herself, but her belly was empty and her throat dry so she let instinct reign and trotted through the verdant forest in search of water. She knew the coastal waters wouldn’t be drinkable, and she couldn’t fish… oh wait, could she?... she didn’t know if she could fish, so she stuck to the forest.
After an hour of wandering she found a pond that was fed by a babbling stream. She put her muzzle to the water and lapped for ages, well past the point of being full. When her thirst was sated and the ripples caused by her tongue subsided, she stared at her silver and white visage in the water. She knew this was her own reflection, but still the ochre eyes that stared back at her were unfamiliar.
“Who am I?” She whispered, but only got silent words from the image in the water.
Table by the Mentors!
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