I ran full speed through the forest, effortlessly clearing bushes and dodging low branches. The world rushed under me as I bounded down Deer Mountain and headed for the Lower Ketchikan Lake. This was freedom. This was what I loved about being a wolf. The wind played with my thick white-as-snow fur coat as I sped along, breathing in the warm June air. Even in Southeast Alaska the air was so clear and fresh, free from the pollution of city smog. I was in heaven.

I ran and ran as fast as I could, enjoying the sensation as much as possible. The skies above were bright and clear after yesterday’s rain storm, and had I been standing on Deer Mountain’s peak I would’ve been able to see for miles around. As I ran I listened to the forest around me. Summer birds were hunting for food, squirrels were busy filling up on nuts and seeds, and in the far distance a wolf pack let out familiar howls.

They were the wolves I had befriended a couple of years ago. Back when I had first moved to Ketchikan the wolves were causing trouble for the local humans. It took months, but I eventually gained their trust and friendship and led them away from the town. I then built a log cabin right on the edge of their territory, which stretched the entire Alaskan Panhandle and east into Canada to the Alaska-Stewart Highway. During the summer the pack spent most of their time on the island because most of the inlets would have melted and become impassable.

When I reached the lake the pack howled again – they were calling for me. I came to a stop at the edge and was about to howl my response when I saw it. There, where the creek met the river, was a large furry creature that was bigger than a bear and taller than a deer. What was it? Was it dead? I took a step closer and sniffed the air. “It” was apparently a “he”, and he smelled… weird. He looked like an oversized wolf, but he didn’t quite smell like one. I took another step and saw that his chest was rising and falling in a slow rhythmic pattern. He was sleeping. I was curious about him – what kind of animal he was – but he was far too large for me to mess with. Plus, I didn’t want to deal with his foul mood. All creatures in the forest knew that the larger animals were always grumpy and irritated if awoken.

The pack howled for a third time, so I took another quick glance at the strange brown creature and then quietly disappeared into the forest. Once I had put some distance between me and the creature I let out my answering howl. When the pack responded and gave me their location I ran full speed, eager to see them again and to play with the new pups.

I hung out with the pack at their den for the rest of the afternoon, quickly forgetting about the creature in the clearing. I wrestled with the four lively pups, which had just come out of the den for the first time last week, and re-established my relationship with the three adults. I felt sorry for the grey and white wolf whom I had nicknamed Grey for lack of a better name. He was the babysitter, and the lowest ranking member of the pack. During meals he always ate last, and once the pups were weaned even they would get to eat before him. So whenever I was with the pack I spent most of my time with him. Khustin, the grey and tan alpha male, didn’t mind it much. Before his partner Shich, a black female, came along last year it was just the two brothers roaming their territory, so he quickly got used to me giving both of them equal attention. Shich was another story. She accepted me of course, but only because Khustin treated me as a member of the pack. I often wondered how long it would take for her to stop being so wary of me.

It was such an exciting time when the pups were born a few weeks ago. Of course I was never allowed inside the den, but I could hear them making noises and playing around. When they finally did make their appearance the only thing I or any of the other members of the pack wanted to do was play with them – which was expected of course. It was always exciting living with the wolves because there was always something going on; be it patrolling the boundaries of their territory, raising pups, hunting, or just playing around. I wouldn’t ever trade these past two years with them for my old city life.

As the day drew on and the sun began to set I wished the pack farewell and dashed off towards my house. It was set at the bases of Deer Mountain and Doe Mountain, three miles south of where the den was, so it didn’t take long for me to get home. When I finally did arrive I quickly sniffed the area to make sure I didn’t have any unwelcome visitors, but there was nothing around but squirrels and birds. I slipped in through the doggy door and trotted over to my room.

Standing on my back feet, I closed my eyes as my transformation took place. The snow white color of my fur retreated to reveal smooth tanned skin. My paws turned into hands and feet while the hair on my scalp darkened into long black locks. My snout receded, my eyes shrank and changed from yellow to a deep blue, and my sharp canines were replaced by smaller, flatter ones. Finally my transformation was complete and I was human once again.

I quickly put on the clothes I had set out on my bed that morning then headed for the kitchen. I bustled around fixing dinner to soothe my rumbling stomach since I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. I had been with the pack earlier when they ate their freshly killed Sitka deer, but no matter how long I’d been shape-shifting into a wolf absolutely nothing was going to induce me to eat raw meat. The idea nearly had me gagging, but at least I no longer puked at the sight of blood. As a horse and then an eagle, I never had to deal with blood at all. Whenever I got hungry I came home, transformed into a human, and ate some well-cooked human food. But after befriending the pack I had to quickly learn to deal with not only blood, but also the sight of a bunch of wolves devouring a dead animal.

After eating and cleaning up I checked my voice messages and my email. My house was more isolated than most small towns in Alaska, but it still had the necessary equipment needed for comfortable living. While the small house was being built I had independent contractors install a personal solar-electric generator for everything to run on, as well as a satellite dish for my phone and television. It wasn’t unusual for secluded homes to have such luxuries as long as a family had the money to pay for it. And thanks to my inheritance – a multimillion dollar manufacturing company that my father had left for me – I was far from being poor. If I had wanted to, I could’ve built a huge mansion complete with a heated parking garage, but that was just the kind of life I had struggled to get away from for the past four years.

I enjoyed living out in the wilderness, literally being at one with nature. It was easier to hide my “special” gift in the middle of no where rather than in a bustling city. Sure I missed warm summers, sunny beaches, and a variety of shopping centers. But I never enjoyed living with the traffic, the pollution, and so many night lights that one couldn’t see the stars. Alaska had always entranced and enthralled me ever since I was little, so it was a no-brainer for me to move here.

There was nothing on my answering machine or in my inbox but junk. I sighed as I deleted them all. Then a knock on my door tore me away from the computer. When I answered there were two young men standing there with broad smiles on their faces. They both towered over me by at least a foot, even though they were only sixteen and seventeen. The older of the two had cropped black hair and broad shoulders. One of his ears was pierced and he had a tattoo on his right arm, the lower half of it showing below his shirt sleeve. I didn’t approve of their apparel, but I also didn’t question it because I knew they had a better toleration to cold than I did. Even though it was nearing the sixties during the day, at night it dropped to the lower forties. And for me that meant jacket weather. The younger one had shoulder-length hair and striking green eyes, which set him apart from the rest of the tribe. The boys were of the local tribe, the Tlingit, but I wondered what they were doing here so late. I invited them inside and whipped up some hot tea, then joined them in the living room.

Elan, the younger one, informed me that I had missed his father’s birthday celebration. From what I had heard his mother, an English woman his father had fallen in love with while working in Vermont, had died in a car accident and his father wanted to be back amongst his people, so they left their Vermont home and moved into the village a few months ago. I regretted missing the party and explained that I had been out with the wolf pack all day. Hearing this, they fired off questions and I eagerly answered.

I always enjoyed talking to them about the pack, and they and the rest of the tribe were always interested in the pack’s progress and well being. Their chief was the ones that got a conservation group to bring Shich down from Northern Alaska so one of the brothers could mate with her. I wanted to tell them about the oversized wolf, but decided to save it for when I visited the elders. Instead we talked about their own health, the success of the birthday party, and summer plans until they got up to leave. As they headed out the door, the eldest one, Yuma, pulled out a cardboard box from just outside and handed it to me with a slight blush. He informed me that it was a box of beef jerky that the Tlingit women had prepared as party favors, and that he had saved a box for me.

“Well thank you for remembering me,” I accepted the gift with a grateful smile. “Maybe if I eat all of this I’ll get as tall as you two.”

“It’ll take ten boxes for you,” Elan bantered before stepping out. We said our goodbyes and they disappeared into the dark forest. After eating a few delicious pieces and storing the box in the pantry, I made my way into the bathroom. What I needed now was a hot bath to let my muscles relax and recuperate after a long day of running and playing with the pack. Thinking of running reminded me again of the large brown creature I had run into earlier. Even after climbing into bed, it – he – was still on my mind.

Just what was he? There was something about him that piqued my interest more than it should have been. Maybe it was his scent. He smelled like a wolf, but not quite. He looked like a wolf, but he was far too large. And what was he doing way out here anyway? Hopefully he wouldn’t cause any trouble for my wolf friends. He was just inside their territory and once the pack picked up his scent they would be on alert. If he and Khustin ever ran into each other, Khustin would probably try to defend his territory and his family, but I knew Khustin would be no match for the giant animal. Worse yet: if the humans spotted the creature there would be hell to pay, and the pack would be the ones paying.

I stifled a yawn as weariness took over. It was too late to worry about this now, and I needed sleep. There was plenty of time to worry in the morning. As I drifted off to sleep I heard the familiar and comforting sound of wolves howling in the distance.