And, now that I’m looking more closely, I can tell the room outside the cage is different too. Bigger and warmer, both in actual temperature and feeling.
Where am I?
The lights in the room are dimmed, so there isn't much I can see from inside the cage. I take a hesitant sniff, taking in the scent of a variety of other animals. A couple squirrels, a skunk, a hawk, and something mildly swampy smelling, reptilian maybe. Nothing larger than a fox I don’t think.
Though I have no idea quitehowI know that beyond the knowledge being based solely on an unfamiliar instinct and maybe a hint of memory.
The various scents pull at the back of my mind, dragging an image out of the fog of my past, one where I’m in the woods, my small hand encased in someone else’s as we walk. The image isn’t much and there’s no context, but it’s still the clearest memory I’ve been able to recall for quite some time.
How long have I been here? Could the pieces of my past come back if my body is allowed time enough to be free of whatever drugs the humans injected me with?
The light in the room outside the cage flares brighter with a soft click and the sound of someone whistling reaches my ears. A young woman—human—walks into view holding a metal bowl. Her gaze catches on me and her eyes widen.
“You're awake already,” she says, her brows pulling together. Her soft tone and kind eyes calm some of my nervousness. She moves closer, her head tilting to the side as she stares at me. “Dr. Larson didn't expect you to shake off the anesthesia for at least another couple hours.” She frowns and glances down at the bowl in her hands. “I was just going to slide your breakfast in there while you were sleeping, but I'm going to have to check with the doc now.”
She places the bowl on the table across from the cage and disappears back through the doorway. My stomach growls an odd meaty smell tinged with something metallic hits my nose.Whatever’s in that bowl doesn’t smell the best, but food is food, and I can’t remember the last time I ate.
A minute or two later, the woman returns—followed by an older human man in a white coat.
No no no.
I shove myself as close to the back of the cage as I can, tail between my legs. How could I have been so stupid to fall for the woman’s fake softness? Of course this place isn't going to be any different. Maybe they're kind enough to give me a bed, but all humans are the same.
Especially the ones in the white coats.
The man frowns at my reaction and moves closer to the cage. Pulling my ears pack, I bare my teeth at him. The threat doesn’t stop him, not that I thought it would, and my heart races, the hair rising along my back, as he crouches down so he’s eye level with the front of the cage.
“Hey there, buddy, it's okay.” His voice is soft, like the woman’s, but he’s not going to fool me so easily. I maintain my defensive position and he glances over his shoulder at the woman. “I think he's just disoriented, but that kind of immediate fear reaction isn’t normal and doesn’t say anything good about whatever idiot decided a wolf would make a good pet.”
A pet? They think I’m an actual wolf? If they don’t know what I am could that mean… they might not be trying to hurt me? A confused hope wars with conditioned fear as my gaze darts between the two humans.
The woman steps up beside the man and brushes her fingers over the outside of the cage. “Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you.”
The man studies me. “We're going to have to call in that wildlife specialist for an assessment to find out if we can ship this guy somewhere for a wild release or if he's spent too long in captivity to make it on his own. Based on my earlierexamination, he's fairly young, but wolves don't always adjust well if they’ve been kept in captivity for any length of time.”
“Poor thing,” the woman says. “Do you think it's safe to open the cage to feed him?”
“I don't know.” The man's brows pull together. “A scared animal can actually be more dangerous than an aggressive one. We might need to sedate him.”
No. The last thing I need is any more drugs in my system.
I immediately relax my posture, my eyes darting to the bowl as my stomach growls again. Forcing myself down onto my stomach, I lower my head submissively and let out a soft, plaintive whine as I let my tail swing gently from side to side.
The man eyes me for a second, then gestures the woman forward with two fingers. “Hand me the bowl. I’m going to open the cage, but be ready just in case.”
Speaking softly to me, he slowly unlatches the cage door, opening it just enough to allow him to slide the bowl inside. I force myself to stay still until he latches the cage again.
“Good boy,” coos the woman.
The man sends her an exasperated look, his lips tight. “He's not a dog. Don't fall into the trap of treating him like one.”
She sighs. “What are we going to do if he can’t be rehabilitated and released to the wild?”
The man shrugs. “That's why I'm going to call Zeke. He’s the expert and he’ll know what to do.”
“Well, there's no time like the present,” she replies. She frowns at me. “I hate having to keep him in that cage. It's way too small for him.”
I chuff, unable to hold the soft noise back. If she thinksthiscage is small, she should have seen my last one.
