The Dream, p.3

I glanced out the window from our bedroom. The wolf was still down there, looking up at me. I knew I should be frightened, but I wasn't. As the daylight grew more near to darkness, I threw out the dinner scraps for the wolf. Yes, he was a hunter. Yes, he could fend for himself. But I felt a kinship to the animal, who always watched and nothing more. As darkness fell, I waited for Him to come home.