[Wolf Breeding] Dog Fish

[Scaramouche Fandango]

Animal dreams were nothing strange for Real Big Fish; she dreamed regularly of being an eagle, a shark, a gryphon; of soaring or swimming or diving through the skies and sea. She dreamed of crashing through the tide, of pounding hooves in the surf melting away into fins; but tonight was a different dream. Tonight's dream had her running on four clawed paws, heaving hot breath in frigid air. Tonight, she was a wolf; and as a wolf, she wasn't alone.

This was also not at all strange to her, for Real Big Fish was rarely truly alone. She was a creature of the Swamp, wholly and truly, and the old ways of hunting alone had almost become foreign to her. A younger Fish would have been alarmed by this, this almost-loss of Totoma-ness; but as she'd aged and gained wisdom, she realized she couldn't lose her Totoma-ness. It simply grew and changed, the meaning of it expanding to encompass her world.

And this was where she found herself tonight. She found herself running through the woods alongside a twinned shadow, a whining, panting shadow of herself. She knew this shape; it was Dogfish, her beloved. Dogfish, who had already expanded her understanding of her way of being once before. She and the wolf knew each other well; she had sought out the creature when one of her daughters, the excellent hunter Pack Tactics, had forsaken the water to run down game on land. At first, Fish couldn't understand why; but as she spoke to her daughter and began to learn the how and the why of the wolf, she soon realized that it was just another way of being.

And tonight, as her body rested, her soul would take up that way of being. Sharp ears, sharp eyes, sharp, sharp, sharp; that's what it meant, being a wolf. Her senses were heightened, her heart was restless. She chased after her friend, not knowing, or even caring, what they were pursuing. Perhaps they weren't hunting anything. Perhaps they were simply chasing joy, seeing contentment in the exhaustion that came after a hard run over rough ground. She practically flew as she leapt over logs, crashing through the undergrowth. She ran almost silently, those paws so different- so flexible, not hard like hooves. She loved every sensation.

She and Dogfish emerged in a meadow, a high alpine meadow- and that was part of how she knew she was dreaming, for swamp forest didn't turn into high mountain meadow. They rolled in innumerable moonlit wildflowers, their eyes glowing and their teeth agleam. Dogfish growled playfully, then pounced on her. They tumbled together, biting and snapping at each others' ruffs and faces, not seriously wanting to cause harm; simply playing with all of the ferocity and passion a wolf's heart held. Wolves never did anything by halves; everything took their whole attention, their whole consciousness. Their whole being. Everything was exciting when you were a wolf.

Their wrestling over, the two wolves picked themselves back up and ran again into the endless night. Their running seemed eternal, all the way until dawn.

When Fish awoke, she awoke with a fullness in her heart of a new kind. She understood the joy of being a wolf, and she liked it. Would she dream of this again? Only time would tell, but she had a good feeling this wasn't the last time she'd be in canine shape.