Sam realised he was changing on a Thursday.
Later, he didn’t call it Thursday. He lost the knowledge of what the days of the week were called – along with months, years, the concept of time passing. Afterwards he thought of that first day as ‘claw’. Until that word slipped away too.
Now he avoids the flicker of gold that means fire. The echo of curved sound that is a human voice.
He pads though the pines, flank shivering ice from the branches. The taste of meat lays metallic on his tongue. The blood smell is on his fur, the smell that makes his heart pound and brain sharp. The dark is not dark. Snow shimmers with the ghosts of rabbits and stoats, scent carving their shape from solid night.
He is claw and fang. He is need.
And when he sleeps he is the wolf who dreams he was a man.
Today’s Wednesday Word Tangle is brought to you by the word
ZOANTHROPY, defined as a kind of mania where a man believes himself to be an animal.
If you had the choice, which animal would you be and why? A virtual gold star for the most unusual or entertaining choice.
Thanks, as always to Kat for starting W4W. x