by Sandra Elsa
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One morning as she sat with the wolf on one side of her and Angel standing on the other, it occurred to her that ever since she met him, she had thought of him simply as, “The Wolf”.
When she asked him if he had a name, he got very quiet and thoughtful, then said, “It seems as though at one time I did, but I can’t seem to recall it. Whether this is part of the curse or just a matter of not needing it for so long, I can’t tell you. Of course, that alone tells me it is probably normal forgetfulness. I remember every detail of my curse vividly.”
She drummed her fingers on the log she was sitting on and considered him. “Well I must have something to call you.”
“You choose a name then. You'll be the only one calling me by it, it should be something you like.”
She searched her mind to come up with a logical name. Then asked him, “What about Conall? It means strong wolf.”
His tail wagged. “If it pleases you Bellana, that is all that matters.”
“Very well then, Conall, you're starting to look much better. Your coat is healthy and you're starting to fill out. If you eat regularly for a while longer you'll be quite handsome.”
He leaned against her, nearly pushing her over in his enthusiasm, and thought, “I owe you many thanks.”
She laid a hand on his head, scratching behind his ears. “I’m afraid Johann has started to notice that we're using excess supplies. If I must, I'll tell him the truth. He won't be happy about it, but you've been with us long enough without causing harm, he'll come to accept you.”