Page 2 of The Healer and the Wolf: Part One

I was pretty sure that if the blood did come from a human then they were already dead. I should probably just call the authorities… but then the thought of being wrong, and wasting a bunch of time made me think otherwise. We were far enough out that it would take at least thirty minutes for cops to respond from the city, and in that time, if someone was hurt... well, it wouldn’t bode well for them.

So, I kept going, dread building in my stomach. I wasn’t sure exactly what I expected to find, but it certainly wasn’t to step through a thick line of foliage only to find a giantwolf lying on the ground, its back pressed up against a rotted stump for protection.

“Oh, my God!” I cried, leaping back.

The wolf didn’t so much as lift its head. With my heart thundering in my chest, I realized the blood trail I’d been following came from this animal. Specifically from the gaping wound on its side.

“You poor thing. That has to hurt.”

Now, I wasn’t some idiot who thought I was a Disney princess, so I didn’t get any closer. Injured animals were often the most dangerous, and this wolf was pretty injured—life-threateningly so. In fact, I was probably in danger by being this close to it.

And yet I couldn’t bring myself to step away.

There was something so inherently tragic about seeing such a majestic creature struggling to breathe, no light in its eyes. Wild animals were incredibly resilient, so it likely only needed the tiniest bit of help to push it away from the brink of death. The most obvious way to do that was to stop the blood flowing sluggishly from its wound.

No.No.I cut that thought off immediately.It would be the worst idea to try to help a wounded, wild animal all on my own in the middle of the woods. I’d have to be crazy! I knew that, and I told myself so with all the sternness I could muster.

It wasn’t happening. I was going to turn around and?—

Oh, who was I kidding? I wanted to help the wolf.

Well, if I was going to be lethally dumb, then I’d try to do it as carefully as I could. Setting my pack on the ground, I pulled out the bowl I ate my cereal out of at work, then tipped the contents of my water bottle into it. Hopefully, it would help a little.

I put it on the ground and used a stick to push it closer to the wolf’s head. It wasn’t easy, and plenty of water sloshed over the side, but at least I kept my distance.

Next was the sandwich I’d packed for lunch but never got to eat because I spent my break restocking the soda aisle. It was party and vacation season, so we were blowing through our supply of soft drinks way faster than normal. And as a small, local grocery store, we needed to do our best keep everything in stock whenever possible.

Keeping my eye on the wolf, I ripped the meat out of my sandwich and tossed it right next to the water bowl. I was both encouraged and discouraged by the fact that the wolf didn’t make any move toward me or the supplies I laid out. While it did make me feel a bit safer, it made the wolf’s prospect for survival pretty grim.

If I wanted to make a difference, I needed to stop the flow of blood, but I couldn’t really think of a way to do that without touching it. Which I wouldn’t do, of course.

Because that would be crazy.And I was not crazy. Sure, did I talk to my cats and my plants like they were humans? Maybe. But still, I knew better.

It couldn’t hurt to at least try to make a poultice, right?

I would have held the wound closed myself if I wasn’t at least a little bit interested in remaining alive. Instead, I took some of the deadnettle out of my bag and stared at it, wondering how I was going to make it into a poultice.

Normally, I would use my mortar and pestle or dry it and then put it in oil to diffuse. Considering neither of those were an option right now, though, I shoved it in my mouth and started chewing.

Fuck, it tasted bitter, like lawn clippings with a bit of an eggy taste at the end. Completely disgusting. Luckily, I didn’t have to fully masticate it, just get it into a sort of clumpy mixture.

Once I was sure it was right, I spat it into my hand. While my spit wasn’t exactly the bestmedium for a healing balm, it was better than nothing. I took a few hesitant steps closer.

It was hard not to be distracted by how truly magnificent the creature was. I’d known wolves were big, much bigger than we usually saw in movies—those were mostly wolfdogs, anyway—but it was another thing entirely to see it up close and personal.

Well, nottooclose.

The creature’s head was as big as my torso, his fur largely gray but with the occasional tawny undertone along his flanks and tail. He had a white patch on his chest, and I would bet one on his belly too, but it was impossible to tell with all the blood. Strangely enough, his paws also caught my eye. Once more, I was struck by how much largerthey were than a dog’s—nearly the size of my face. The thought of being side swiped by that was sobering, and it stopped me from getting any closer.

I was in a bit of a conundrum. Although I wasn’t willing to get any nearer, I was still too far away to actually pat the poultice onto the wolf’s wound. And as much as my heart ached at seeing it in so much pain, I wasn’t stupid.

I supposed there was one easy solution… which was how I ended up slowly tossing gobs of deadnettle onto the wound. It required me to chew two more mouthfuls of the bitter plant, but I managed to cover a good area. It was impossible to tell for sure, but it looked like the slow, sluggish leaking of blood had eased off, reducing it to little more than a trickle.

I stood there a moment, just observing. I’d pretty much come to the end of anything useful that I could or was willing to do for the wolf. As tempting as it was to bury my hand in its impossibly thick fur, there were some lines I wouldn’t cross.

Almost as if the wolf heard my thoughts, it moved for the first time. I tensed, ready to run, but it only shifted its head enough to lap at the water.

That was a good thing. While I was by no means an animal expert, I’d volunteered at a lot of animal shelters, vet offices, and even spent one summer with a wildlife rehabilitation program to teach teenagers about conservation. I missed being able to do that, but there just weren’t enough hours in the day.

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