Eyes flash back
as the torch scans
the path ahead.
Hackles raised,
they look to us
with cocked heads,
a trait more human
than wild wolf
as they step forward,
our footsteps
retreating in time,
a wildlife tango
we only heard about
in ranger guides.
She pokes my side:
“do something” as I
whisper back the same.
We both raise our arms
growing extra feet
in seconds as we yell,
turn ourselves
into indescribable
monsters backing towards
stone outhouses
only running
when we are close enough,
sure they won’t have time
to pounce.