The Better to See You With (My Dear)

Prologue

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She was twelve years old. No, wait, was she thirteen? The leaves had begun to wither and curl into themselves with the onset of autumn, so yeah, it must have occurred in the months before her thirteenth birthday (January 9th, but you know, the specifics are unimportant).

She remembers not being particularly excited about staying in her Aunt Sonya's cabin with her family in Oregon. Her mom and aunt were notorious for getting into a whole bunch of spats in the days leading up to their trips, so the mere idea of being in a cramped living space with the looming clash was exhausting. And although she had a few cousins who would likely ease some of the tension, they were slated to drop by a week into the visit.

Her saving grace came in the form of a recently adopted Labrador that her aunt had conveniently forgotten to mention to her mom before they made the drive to Halrock Quarry. Naturally, her mother pitched a fit about the potential for fleas and even threatened to go to a motel instead. Aunt Sonya had to placate her elder sister by assuring her that the dog was regularly checked for any sort of creepy crawlies and that, no, the dog hair wouldn't cling to her leather furniture. That was certainly a headache of a conversation, but it was well worth being able to see the fabled furry companion in person.

Lance was adorable, a true sweetheart. When she first entered the house, the two-year-old Labrador had examined the hugs that were being exchanged and tried to mimic the activity by jumping onto his hind legs and placing his arms onto the preteen's shoulders. It was an awkward sort of pose, but the goofy, welcoming smile that the animal was offering her filled her heart with so much joy. The dog was butting his wet nose into her face when she realized that she would do anything for this creature.

She still maintains to this day that no guy has ever looked at her with the same amount of love and affection that she had received from Lance. And frankly, she secretly hopes no guy ever will.

It took some convincing from her mom and dad to let her stay behind with Lance while the adults went out to the wine festival on the fourth day of the trip. "Trina will take care of me," she maintained. "And if anything happens, we'll go to one of the neighbor's houses and phone you."

Eventually, they caved, worried that they'd miss out on the best parking spots if they deliberated any further. She heaved a sigh of relief while watching the van pull out of the driveway, impressing on the tire marks that were already embedded in the gravel. She then turned to her sister, only to find that said sister was retreating to her room, clasping onto her Mp3 player as if it were her lifeline. Soon enough, she could hear the trills of her elder sibling as she shrieked along to her playlist upstairs. Of course.

Meanwhile, Lance peered through the window before gazing at her curiously.

"Well, it's just us here now, buddy," she remarked. The canine had shifted around eagerly as the girl scratched behind his ear.

They remained seated by the bay window for quite some time, observing the way the mountain breeze stirred the branches of the oak and maple trees. Occasionally, orange-tinted leaves would trickle onto the window sill and Lance would endearingly attempt to blow them away, causing the girl to chuckle. She briefly considered grabbing her songbook from her suitcase, but by the time she could entertain the thought, the dog had rested his head on her lap, eyes fluttering in placid bliss. Soon enough, both of them were nestled between the cushions dozing off peacefully.

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She snapped up at the rolling of thunder and the rattling of stray branches against the glass panes. Lance had jolted at the sound, his body rigid and alert even after the strikes lessened to a muffled rumble. She observed how his head subtly tilted to pick up noises that were indistinguishable from the drizzle of the rain to the untrained ear. The wind began to howl--or, at the very least, she had hoped it was the wind--and as she noticed Lance plopping off the alcove and frantically hopping towards the dog door, she suddenly grew very concerned.

Before she could even comprehend what she was doing, she found herself running after the canine while he treaded further and further into the woods. Her calls bounced off the trees and meshed with the sounds of the storm. Although the chill of the misty evening air rattled her to her very core, she continued towards the sound of Lance padding through leaves, branches, and stones. She gasped as she felt a sharp object snag her damp sock and run into the sole of her feet, but kept going.

Soon the thumping of paws stopped, and as she rushed forward, she was greeted by the sight of Lance standing in a clearing. He sniffed at the ground and then at the air, a low whine escaping from his throat. His drenched body trembled from the cold, yet he skidded around in a desperate attempt to find whatever he was searching for. Her chest simultaneously tightened with the sting of the frigid wind and a sense of sympathy for Lance. The dog looked completely powerless as he scouted the area before finally settling down in the center of the clearing and barking dejectedly.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing, boy?" she asked, sliding onto the ground to wrap her soaked arms around the equally-soaked creature. Lance didn't move. He merely closed his eyes and whimpered softly. Steam spilled from his mouth as he huffed in disappointment.

Without warning, the bushes rustled, and a band of wolves emerged from the thicket. She suppressed the urge to scream as they locked eyes with the intruders. The patter of the rain was the only sound that seemed to pierce the ringing in her ears.

She wasn't quite sure how long they remained in that pose, enclosed by the pack of wild animals, but she remembers everything slowing down as Lance pounced on one of the wolves. They tumbled onto the dirt, rolling around until Lance stood overtop the wolf, tail wagging eagerly. The creature responded just as warmly, nipping at the bottom of the canine's muzzle. She could only glance on in awe as this playful interaction transpired.

Is this... Is this where Lance came from before he was taken to the shelter?

I can't think of any other reason why they'd be acting so friendly towards each other.

Wait... If that is the case, then he must have been worried for their safety because of the storm.

Slowly, the rest of the pack filed in. They eyed the girl with weary interest until Lance returned from his roughhousing session and nudged at her hand to receive head pats. She stroked his damp fur to occupy her shaking palms, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. While most of the wolves returned to pruning their packmates, some came up to inspect the stranger. Their nostrils flared as they studied the array of scents that she was likely carrying. (In her half-conscious state, she wondered if her extra strength deodorant made either a good or bad impression on her hosts.)

After completing their analysis, the swarming wolves eventually flopped onto the coarse dirt in a display of tolerance. One of the wolves even went so far as to tend to the scrapes and cuts that she had acquired from her frenzied chase. A jolt of pain rocketed up her entire leg when the animal's tongue grazed the wound on the bottom of her sockless foot. She suddenly began to recognize the degree of pain she had actually been in, for she could sense the flames that licked her sole lessen to a faint throbbing. Despite--or perhaps in spite of--the harshness of the cold, in that very moment, she felt a sort of warmth that radiated throughout her entire body.

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She wasn't aware of the fact that she had fallen asleep until she was awoken by the calls of her sister. Her fingers were still gripped onto Lance's slightly wet fur as she took in the sight of the morning light filtering through the cabin window. She supposed that her parents must have transplanted her from the bay window seat in the middle of the night, since her head was now resting on the cushions of the couch.

"About time! Mom and Dad are thinking about heading to a breakfast place this morning. If you want to come, they'll be waiting for you by the front door."

"Okay, tell them I'll be there in a few."

When a twelve-year-old Tori headed out of the cabin in mismatched socks that day, no one questioned it. Nor did they question how she held onto Lance a little tighter for the remainder of the trip.