He stopped drinking before the urge to drain it became unbearable. No food in almost three full days of serious hiking. At least he wouldn’t miss the gym for a while.

A flash of white caught his attention as he lowered the canteen. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, then dismissed it. He wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to clear his vision when he saw it again.

It was back, or maybe it had never left him. He wasn’t sure, having paid less attention to his surroundings at the pace he’d set.

As he felt the heat of the day fall on him, he wondered if his imagination was working overtime. Weren’t there legends about visions? Maybe he was having one, in the middle of Oregon.

Bram almost laughed. He was starting to lose it, too. Great.

He capped the canteen and didn’t move. He was hot and achy. Starving was another fact. The flash of white streaked by again, beyond the nearest trees. Rubbing his eyes harder, he was surprised to find it still there, only it had stopped, blurred by shadows. He could barely make out the tail, like a white banner spotlighted by the fading light of the pending sunset. It twitched once when he stood. He didn’t move again in case it bolted, but instead, it seemed to…wait. Disbelief had him shaking his head. What did he have to lose?

“I know I’m imagining this. Do you want me to follow you?” he asked quietly, no longer concerned with who thought he might be nuts. The tail twitched at the sound of his voice. The animal didn’t move, but he heard a distinct click. He cringed when he realized it had snapped its jaws at him. “I am going crazy,” he muttered as he carefully followed the retreating tail into the trees.

He didn’t know how long he followed it or how far he had traveled when he discovered they’d stopped in a clearing. As the animal blended into the foliage at the next line of trees, he realized with a feeling of wonder that he was standing at the top of the trail. At the very least, a trail he knew he could follow. He spun on a heel looking for the wolf, only to find he was alone. The wolf was gone.

He searched, half hoping that somehow it would still be there, but knew even as far as visions went, he shouldn’t be looking for it at all. Accepting that he had found a way out, he dug a pit and made another small fire, doing it the same way he had the night before and on more nights over his life than he could count. He settled down close to the little beacon of light, ready to make the march in the morning for civilization, when there was a stirring in the trees opposite.

He lifted his head, the dark line of the trees becoming impenetrable in the falling darkness. Cautiously, the wolf moved forward, a limp form clutched in its jaws. It dropped the rabbit carcass several feet from him, then began to back away. Gray, luminous eyes watched him intensely.

“Wait!” he whispered, unsure why he did or if it mattered. He realized he was imagining all of this; he had to be. The wolf froze at the sound of his voice. Then it sat on its haunches and stared at him. “Why are you here? Are you a vision? A dream?” He swallowed thickly as the animal tilted its head, listening to him. It clicked its jaws at him again with a raw snap.

He smiled at it, not in the least concerned. Visions weren’t real. “Sorry. Not my language.” It appeared to him that the animal smiled in return as it gracefully stood. In the distance, there was a howl, long and deep. It caused a shiver to race over his skin. He watched with acute fascination as the one before him lifted its head and answered with a long soulful sound that reverberated through the night and filled him with wonder.

Without another glance at him, it slipped into the trees. “Thank you, my white beauty,” he said into the darkness. A faint yip reached him on a breeze, then there was silence.