I’ve met a new friend recently. I don’t want to say too much. But I’m happy and excited and terrified all at the same time. This is coming just as I’ve decided to truly come out into the human world again. I don’t think I’ve ever said what it means to me to be a wolf. It means being free. It means being myself. To me, the wolf has chaotic good alignment. To the wolf, humans are the violent dangerous animals. All wildlife naturally fear humans, including the wolf. It takes getting acclimated before the wolf can be around humans. But after that, he is vulnerable. Please don’t hunt me. I don’t want to be a trophy.
But I’m just so startled by how much I want this. I’ve taken action on it, too. I didn’t think I was even capable of that any more. Thought all I’d ever be able to do again was run away. I could only think of all the reasons I was incompatible with anyone. At first it was only that they all smoked. Now that they all drink. I can’t do either. I suppose part of it is I’m realising that I’m not as good as I’d hoped I was at keeping myself safe all by myself. And I didn’t know what I’d do if offered a drink. I know I can refuse it. I don’t think I was as polite as I should have been, but I’ll do better next time. But I do worry I may have to disclose, and that if I do, whatever tenuous accord or respect is there would evaporate. But upon reflection I realise that that’s silly. I can only do my best and hope for the best. I do have a serious crush, though.