Amethyst

Tara shot up from the bed into a sitting position. Her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her eyes were searching wildly around the room. She felt as though she was being watched. Her eyes shifted to the window. Through the frosted glass, she could see that another fresh coat of snow had fallen. She pulled the tangled covers from her legs and got up from the bed. She softly padded over to the window. Winter was her favorite season. She had preserved her best memory of her father within the season of winter.

She closed her eyes and her father's smile as he lay in the thick snow beside her while they attempted to form snow angels filled her mind. A cloudy day in December in the backyard. She giggled merrily as she flailed her arms and legs about wildly. She looked over and saw her father doing the same. She laughed until her body shook with full belly laughs. They both jumped up to admire their work. She was eight years old. She hadn't seen her father in almost sixteen years. Tears stung her eyes as she could still picture his face so vividly. Most people who knew him, claims she's a spitting image of him. She looked to the large mirror that hung on her bedroom wall. Her bright hazel eyes, pale skin, and dark auburn hair were very similar to her father. She shivered when she glanced at the light layering of freckles than coated her cheeks. Too much like him. She let a single tear drop before squeezing her eyes shut tightly and willing them away. You're an adult for God's sake, pull it together, she admonished herself.

Tara's eyes shot open as she felt that strange sensation again. She felt like she was being watched. She peered out the frosty window once more before turning to go back to her bed. She yawned sleepily and crawled back into the warmth and comfort of the thick afghan blanket she so loved. She was just on the brink of peaceful slumber when she heard it. The sound she heard resembled that of a low growl. She knew that wildlife inhabited this part of the woods, but she'd never come in contact with animals (save the raccoons that sift through her trash cans). Raccoons surely don't growl though. Tara jumped out of the bed and cautiously approached the window. Her eyes moved over the trees and shrubbery. That's when she saw him.

There a several feet from the her cabin stood a very large wolf. The wolf's fur was as white as the snow around him. The wolf was watching her. She gasped and took a step from the window. The wolf slowly moved closer until, finally, its nose bumped the glass. She gazed at him in amazement. The wolf's eyes were eerily intelligent and curious. His breath created a small spot of fog on the window. Those strange dark eyes displayed another emotion she couldn't pinpoint. The giant wolf made a whimpering sound, one that pulled at Tara's heart. Suddenly, she noticed the dark blotches in the wolf's fur. He'd been hurt! She wasn't sure what to do, but she knew she had to do something. She moved closer to the window and gently placed her hand on the glass. She felt a light bump against as the wolf pressed his wet nose against the glass beneath her palm. She quickly removed her hand. This whole situation was strange. Wolves aren't supposed to be friendly, they are predators. Maybe he's someone's pet... But Tara knew this wolf was no one's pet. This wolf was different. He had to be at least three times that of an average wolf. And he wore no collar. She shivered. But not from fear. The wolf sat there watching intently through slightly pained eyes before whimpering and bumping the glass with his nose. She had to do something. She quickly moved down the hall to the front room. She grabbed her jacket and boots, and swiftly sliding them on, made her way the front door. She took a deep breath. Gosh, Tara, what are you doing? You're about to let a wild wolf into your home. Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she unlocked and unbolted the door.

She stepped out into the night. The snow had stopped falling hours ago. The only sound was the crunching of the snow beneath her boots and her shaky breathing. She stood for a moment, surrounded by the calm. She saw the slightest movement to her left. She turned and there he was. The wolf slowly paced toward her. She noticed that he was limping. Swallowing the lump in her throat, along with the temptation to run, she moved toward him cautiously. She saw the dark blood that tainted the snow every step he took. "You poor thing," she whispered. As if the wolf understood her, he whimpered. She hesitantly placed her hand on his giant head, petting him gently. His snow white fur was so soft. The wolf leaned his head into her hand. Her mind was racing. She'd finally made up her mind. "Come here, boy," she said gently and somewhat awkwardly. The wolf (as though he'd understood her) limped after her as she led him back to the cabin.

Once she had ushered the wolf inside, she was at loss for what to do. The wolf turned and stared at her with those soulful eyes. She became immobilized under that dark gaze. She attempted unsuccessfully to swallow the large lump in throat. Then she remembered he was hurt. She rushed to the bathroom and retrieved the tin tub from underneath the sink. She filled it with warm water and one of her various bubble-bath mixtures. When she returned back to the den, she found the wolf lying on his side whimpering. She sat the tub down next to him and ran back to get a towel and the first-aid kit she'd never used. At least it'll be good for something other than collecting dust, she thought. She returned to the wolf and began cleansing his blood-soaked white fur. Underneath the blood, she found multiple deep claw marks. "What did this to you?" she asked aloud. She winced and so did the wolf as she poured the antiseptic over the wound. The wolf growled deeply as she patched up the wound while trying her best to apply only the slightest bit of pressure.

Tara let out a shaky breath. She'd never dressed a wound before. She sat back to admire her work. Not too bad. She stood (after vigorously scrubbing at the dark blood stains on the floor with the old rag) and carried the tub back to the bathroom. She was aware of the wolf's eyes on her the entire time, choosing not to meet those dark eyes for fear she might become even more unnerved. Emptying and then storing the tub back under the sink, Tara heaved a sigh and massaged her lower back, for the tub was not very light in weight when filled with water. When she turned around, there was the wolf in the doorway. He watched her with those dark, intelligent eyes. She audibly gulped. What now? She dropped to her knees in front of the wolf and reached to pet him. The wolf closed his eyes as her hand stroked the soft fur around its neck. Tara smiled. He's like a giant puppy. He opened his eyes again. In the light of the bathroom, she could see that his eyes were lighter than she'd first thought. She gasped, "Those eyes..." They were odd, almost a violet color. Tara had never heard of wolves with eyes that color. She thought of the word amethyst while staring into those eyes. Amethyst...Ameth for short. Yes. That's what I'll name you, she thought. "Ameth..." The wolf licked her palm and she giggled. She then let out a jaw-splitting yawn.

She went to the linen closet and grabbed some comforters. She laid out a pallet on the floor of her bedroom. Ameth followed her there, his nose bumping the small of her back. She chuckled as she couldn't get over how out-of-place he looked in her tiny cabin. He plopped down on the pallet and watched her as she snuggled down into the warm of her bed. "Goodnight, Ameth," She murmured sleepily. She heard a faint growl in return before finally sleep took her.