We made dinner over a fire. We toasted marshmallows. We fell asleep under a starlit sky as the burning wood crackled in front of us. It was cold. We wore all our clothes and huddled inside our sleeping bags. I breathed in. I breathed out. It smelled like home, my home, my first home. I smiled at the memory. I couldn’t hold onto the fleeting images in my head, but the scents I could recall as if I’d smelled them only yesterday. Must’ve been a canine thing, I reasoned.
Doug fell asleep. I heard him snoring. I fell asleep soon thereafter. It’d been a long day. It’d been along year.
I awoke the next morning just as the sun yawned to life. I didn’t usually get up so early. Then again, I wasn’t usually surrounded by wolves back at home.
“Doug,” I whisper shouted. “Doug, wake up.”
He stirred.
