She had begun to hear them again. The wolves. The wolves and their howls which split the once-silent night air. She could only hear them howl when there was a full moon. She allowed herself to be drawn into the echoing cries, the haunted sounding moans. Her grandmother  told her that wolves howled to communicate with one another, and the howling was their secret language that no one else knew. Her mother and father had always thought her grandmother was peculiar, but they didn’t understand the kind of person she was. They didn’t know the freedom she and her grandmother felt when they took those long walks in the woods or the comfort of sitting together for hours on end, listening to the wolves’ melodic songs.

The girl positioned herself by the window of her small, plain room and gazed out at the pine trees covered in snow. She had always wondered: Were there many packs of wolves in the woods behind her house or just one which had claimed the whole forest as their territory? Did the wolves have enough to eat in the winter? Had they ever attacked a human just to survive? What were they doing this very instant? Feeling exhaustion overwhelming her, she lay in bed, letting the wolves’ songs lull her into a deep sleep.
The following night she let herself ponder over the events of the previous evening to escape for a little while. But as she started her homework, she was amazed to hear the wolves howling once again from her window. The full moon was gone, and this time they sounded different. They usually reminded her of a choir of singers: joyful, powerful, and beautiful. Now the wolves sounded lost, and their howls seemed to be searching for something, something that wasn’t responding, something that seemed to be missing.
There was something different about their howls, but they were still somehow familiar, still comforting. Then she realized what it was. She heard her grandmother's voice among the howls. This is not possible, she told herself. It couldn’t be her grandmother. For her grandmother had died just a month earlier. Grief flooded over her once again as she remembered what she had been trying hard to forget. The echoing of the wolves grew louder and with each passing howl, the voice of her grandmother became more and more prominent. The longer she listened to the howls, the more she was convinced it was her grandmother’s voice calling to her.
She tried to bury herself in her homework, but she was unable to bear their cries, unable to block out the melancholy harmonies that filled the air everywhere around her, unable to rid her nostrils from the smell of pine trees. The effort to sort out her confusion made her head hurt. She decided to try to get away from the chaos in her mind by moving to the other end of the house, where she could finish her homework with the help of a pair of earplugs from her desk drawer.

As she  finished her homework, the howling died down and she decided there was nothing better for her to do other than to try to sleep and forget the overwhelming grief that was left over from her grandmother’s death. She tossed and turned in the night, her feet cold and unwilling to get warm.

She was jolted awake in the middle of the night by a long low howl, followed by several other howls, her grandmother’s voice still among them. She decided at that moment to leave. There was nothing more for her here. The one person who understood, loved, and cared for her was gone. Her parents had made their priorities clear, and their priorities did not include her. She remembered all those nights when they didn’t come home from work until midnight. Even during the occasional family dinner, they would only ever talk about work. Worse, they found her interests in the wolves strange, just as they had found her grandmother's interest strange. She snuck out of her room and out the back door. It creaked loudly when she opened it, as usual. Her parents never woke.
She ran through the snow, not caring whether it felt cold, but marvelling at how beautiful and magical it seemed and the comfort she felt as she ran through the trees. When she came to a dense part of the forest she stopped, unsure of where to go next. The girl paused to listen for the howls but she heard panting instead, and it was close. She turned and saw them-the wolves.
The pack leader was black as night, with a scar running from the top of his eye to the bottom of his lip. His eyes were a haunting yellow. He wasn’t that big, but was intimidating with rippling muscles covering every inch of his body. Dried blood outlined his mouth.

His mate stood next to him, her white fluffy coat offset by her ice-cold blue eyes. She looked well built and well fed. She smelled of dirt and pine trees and let out a low growl when she saw the girl.
The rest of the pack stayed behind their leader, lowering their eyes in respect as he stepped forward. They showed no fear of the girl, and stood still as if they were waiting for something. Or perhaps they were waiting to get a signal from the head alpha, who kept his stony gaze focused on the girl.

Something caught the girl’s eye and she glanced over as she saw a smaller, more fragile wolf, walking calmly towards her. Immediately, she knew that wolf was her grandmother just by seeing her focused green eyes. She couldn't believe it. Her grandmother was alive. The girl finally knew that she belonged here, with the wolves and her grandmother. The wolf who was her grandmother gazed at her fondly and calmly, as if to reassure her that the other wolves would take care of her.

She knelt down, trying to make herself look submissive and show them that she meant no harm. Sitting down, she skimmed her gaze over the whole pack. She sat there, admiring the simple disposition of each and every wolf. She respected them. She admired them. She wanted to be like them. She wished to be a part of their pack.

A quick glance from the leaders sent the pack toward her. The pack members solemnly made two lines in front of her, making a path for their leader. He walked up to the girl and smelled her before proceeding with the ritual. The last thing he did was to look into her eyes. The girl looked back, captivated.

The leader seemed to be looking for something. He stared deeply into her eyes and finally found what he was looking for. Almost finished with the ritual, he stepped back to complete the last step. Suddenly, the girl felt the wolf’s sharp claws slash her cheek. She fell to the ground, feeling blood trickle down her cheek, startled by his actions but not quite scared. The pain in her cheek started to burn and then slowly spread all over her body. Her flesh felt like it was coming off. She felt bones being stretched and muscles being ripped apart. She turned in desperation to the pack, her eyes pleading for help. But they only stood and watched.

She waited for the pain to subside but it kept growing. She knew this had to be a dream. She remembered herself going to sleep. She tried to pinch herself awake, but it didn’t work. Pain shot through her body again, interrupting her thoughts. She started to scream, gasping when each bone snapped in half.

She realized what was really happening when her body began to grow paws, a tail, and a snout. Her screams continued until they became howls, howls which split the once silent night air.

The girl turned to her new family members, each one of them nodded their heads, welcoming her to a new reality. She knew there was no waking up.