I love nights like this. Nights when the wind blows gently, sending a delightful sort of cold through the air, and the full moon is like an expressionless face, a shining crystal ball, sending its light into the narrowest nicks and crannies that you never knew existed. These are the nights where the pine trees, dark, foreboding shapes that stand like guards around the fields, shiver as the wind trickles past, and a slight rain that feels good on your dry hands leaks through the spaces in the sky.
These are the nights that just get better and better when you have someone to share it with.
I let out a sigh, held tighter to Rafe’s hand, breathed quietly.
“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, just to make small talk.
He agreed with me. “Thanks for letting me stay over, Nichole. Your parents are awful nice to agree to let a rough, tired ole woodsman like me run round your place.”
“Don’t mention it,” I said, and was about to add something else, maybe to assure him, tell him he wasn’t the ole woodsman he thought he was, he was much much more, when a choked out, splintered, and pitiful howl split through the night.
“Gaw!” Rafe cried out, stiffening, and half standing up. “What was that?”
“Coyote,” I tugged on his arm, pulling him down to a sitting position once more. “Singing for his soul.”
“Don’t tell me you believe that cr** now,” he said softly. He looked off into the darkness, scoffing slightly, not at me, but at something else.
“Naw, not really,” I said calmly, “Just what my grandma used to say.”
The horrible sounding howls kept on, turning shriller and shriller with each passing second.
“What do you think is the reason he howls like that?” I said suddenly.
Rafe looked at me, and smiled gently. “Aw, I don’t know." He paused. "Maybe he has a hurt paw." Another silence spread out before us. "Maybe he's complaining about being sick.”
It made sense, but I felt like it was something deeper. My heart, pit pattering in my chest, I snuggled close to him, trying to rid the cold chill of the wind from my body. I felt warm, tingly shivers as he rubbed my back with his hand, and as he did so, a thought struck me.
“You know what I think?” I said, pulling away slightly from his grasp. “I think he’s lonely.”
Rafe thought about my words for a second, before he said, “A coyote? Lonely? I don’t think so. How do they hunt then, Nichole? To bring down big things like deer and stuff they need packs, you know, to surround and stake out, then they have a few that go in for the kill.”
“Maybe he was rejected,” I said simply, “When he tried to join a pack, they scared him out. Maybe he just didn’t fit in.”
“Sounds like school,” Rafe commented jokingly.
He was right. I smiled. “Doesn’t that cry sound awful though?” I said, “He wants somebody. He’s hungry for love. He’s-
The cry intensified, so loud it sounded like a child screaming, maybe even like parents fighting.
I felt Rafe hug me tighter. “I’m glad I have you Nichole,” he said. “I’m so so glad I’m not like that loner out there. So so glad.”
“You have no idea,” I said softly, and we stared at each other, my blue eyes meeting his dark brown ones. Still, even as we kissed, the whining cries carried on. They were like lightning bolts that came from the most horrible pits of he**, traveling like fire down our veins where they rested in our stomachs, a dark black heap, so pitiful and lonely, so useless and sad.
When I pulled away from Rafe, it seemed like hours had passed. I was breathing hard, and all was quiet. But then there was another cry, and this one seemed different, happier. Then another howl joined the first, and they combined as one. Yips of joy and excitement they were, coming from out of blackness, and then after a few minutes they vanished from the air, dead and gone.
But strangely, it felt better, more peaceful. I turned to Rafe.
“I think he found someone,” I said softly.
Rafe smiled, looked at me, understanding and love in those beautiful, brown eyes. “Me too,” he said.
These are the nights that just get better and better when you have someone to share it with.
I let out a sigh, held tighter to Rafe’s hand, breathed quietly.
“It’s beautiful,” I said softly, just to make small talk.
He agreed with me. “Thanks for letting me stay over, Nichole. Your parents are awful nice to agree to let a rough, tired ole woodsman like me run round your place.”
“Don’t mention it,” I said, and was about to add something else, maybe to assure him, tell him he wasn’t the ole woodsman he thought he was, he was much much more, when a choked out, splintered, and pitiful howl split through the night.
“Gaw!” Rafe cried out, stiffening, and half standing up. “What was that?”
“Coyote,” I tugged on his arm, pulling him down to a sitting position once more. “Singing for his soul.”
“Don’t tell me you believe that cr** now,” he said softly. He looked off into the darkness, scoffing slightly, not at me, but at something else.
“Naw, not really,” I said calmly, “Just what my grandma used to say.”
The horrible sounding howls kept on, turning shriller and shriller with each passing second.
“What do you think is the reason he howls like that?” I said suddenly.
Rafe looked at me, and smiled gently. “Aw, I don’t know." He paused. "Maybe he has a hurt paw." Another silence spread out before us. "Maybe he's complaining about being sick.”
It made sense, but I felt like it was something deeper. My heart, pit pattering in my chest, I snuggled close to him, trying to rid the cold chill of the wind from my body. I felt warm, tingly shivers as he rubbed my back with his hand, and as he did so, a thought struck me.
“You know what I think?” I said, pulling away slightly from his grasp. “I think he’s lonely.”
Rafe thought about my words for a second, before he said, “A coyote? Lonely? I don’t think so. How do they hunt then, Nichole? To bring down big things like deer and stuff they need packs, you know, to surround and stake out, then they have a few that go in for the kill.”
“Maybe he was rejected,” I said simply, “When he tried to join a pack, they scared him out. Maybe he just didn’t fit in.”
“Sounds like school,” Rafe commented jokingly.
He was right. I smiled. “Doesn’t that cry sound awful though?” I said, “He wants somebody. He’s hungry for love. He’s-
The cry intensified, so loud it sounded like a child screaming, maybe even like parents fighting.
I felt Rafe hug me tighter. “I’m glad I have you Nichole,” he said. “I’m so so glad I’m not like that loner out there. So so glad.”
“You have no idea,” I said softly, and we stared at each other, my blue eyes meeting his dark brown ones. Still, even as we kissed, the whining cries carried on. They were like lightning bolts that came from the most horrible pits of he**, traveling like fire down our veins where they rested in our stomachs, a dark black heap, so pitiful and lonely, so useless and sad.
When I pulled away from Rafe, it seemed like hours had passed. I was breathing hard, and all was quiet. But then there was another cry, and this one seemed different, happier. Then another howl joined the first, and they combined as one. Yips of joy and excitement they were, coming from out of blackness, and then after a few minutes they vanished from the air, dead and gone.
But strangely, it felt better, more peaceful. I turned to Rafe.
“I think he found someone,” I said softly.
Rafe smiled, looked at me, understanding and love in those beautiful, brown eyes. “Me too,” he said.
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