Most of us are raised in packs with our mother, father, and siblings. Being part of pack helps us hunt more effectively and to care for and protect one another.

But I am not like most of our breed. I had the misfortune of being born with all white fur, very different from the black and gray fur that the rest of my pack had. I was shunned from the start and ultimately, realizing that I would never be accepted, I left the pack, becoming what they call a lone wolf.

I migrated to the misty, often foggy forests within the Blue Ridge Mountains. As a lone wolf, I had to be especially stealthy to catch my prey and, with a price on my head, to stay out of the rifle sights of the bounty hunters who sought to kill me.

I became known as the “ghost wolf.” The name suited me and with my acquired skills as both a hunter and the hunted, I thrived.

It was a few years after I went solo that I met a she-wolf, Luna, whose fur was reddish brown, almost fox-like in color, while her face mask was white. She quickly became my mate and breeding partner. Before long she bore me enough pups that we had our own pack.

One of our pups, like me, was all white. I took a special interest in him, teaching him all of my skills. I wanted him to know that he was a cherished member of our pack and would never have to go out on his own. And long after I passed, he would continue my legacy of haunting the forests of the Blue Ridge Mountains as the “Ghost Wolf.”

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Written for Sadje’s What Do You See. Image credit: Marek Szturc @ Unsplash