I was desperately trying to decide when the wolf tensed its hind legs, lowered its head, and pounced, crossing the stream with one giant bound. It crashed into my chest, knocking me to the ground. I tried scrambling away but the wolf had perched on top of me and was too heavy to throw off. My hands searched frantically for a rock or stick, something to beat the animal with, but there was nothing to grab except snow.

The wolf was a terrifying sight up close, with its dark gray face and slanting yellow eyes, its black muzzle and bared white teeth, some two or three inches long. Its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth and it was panting slowly. Its breath stank of blood and raw animal flesh.

I didn't know anything about wolves — except that vampires couldn't drink from them — so I didn't know how to react: Attack its face or go for its body? Lie still and hope it went away, or shout and maybe scare it off? While my brain was spinning, the wolf lowered its head, extended its long wet tongue, and… licked me!

I was so stunned, I just lay there, staring up at the jaws of the fearsome animal. The wolf licked me again, then got off, faced the stream, went down on its paws, and lapped at the water. I lay where I was a few moments more, then pulled myself up and sat watching it drink, noting that it was a male.

When the wolf had drunk enough, he stood, lifted his head, and howled. From the trees on the opposite side of the stream, three more wolves emerged and crept down to the bank, where they drank. Two were females and one was a young cub, darker and smaller than the others.

The male watched the others drinking, then sat beside me. He snuggled up to me like a dog, and, before I knew what I was doing, I'd reached around and was tickling him behind his ear. The wolf whined happily and cocked his head so I could scratch behind the other ear.