The Boar and The Wolf

“Sequel” to The Wolf

I have been putting off this post simply  I do not know how to describe the one I know as The Boar. I had known him for four years now, his circular gut and backwards baseball caps. The Boar was large, rambunctious, obnoxious, and unlawful. He walked with a certain step, swaggering awkwardly from side to side. Degrading were his remarks and surely illegal were his brags. He was a decent person. I had spoken to him without the presence of his friends. He had said something profound, something kind that I could not remember. But the next day The Boar was back again with his lewd remarks and mockery. A shame.

But I found myself sitting on a bus with other bus regulars, seats packed with strangers, friends, colleagues. The Wolf had greeted me again as he looked for a place to settle. So once again, I squish against the window with my checkered backpack.

His eyes met mine, much brighter than I remember them being. For, I had remembered them as a nutmeg brown but I saw them as a waterfall blue: electric as he speaks softly to me. They were still as intense as ever under his angular brow. The wild is still curled snugly around his pupil, still soundly asleep. Although, I was far more weary of him than before.

“He’s dangerous.” I remember a little bird telling me. But accusations are not an excuse for impoliteness, and I let him sit. The Boar, I saw, had taken to sitting behind us. I shrank down in my seat, finding the window much more appealing. Neither  The Boar nor The Wolf disturbed me for quite some time and I re-sized with caution, and slowly turned to face them when WHAM!

The sting across my face was not as horrid as the scent that washed over me. The scent of sweat and body odor and things that hopefully were not what I thought they were. It seemed that no one witnessed The Boar striking me, but I would not be one to point it out. He himself did not even seem to notice. But I then locked eyes with one of The Boar’s passel and he snickered.

I shrunk back down, crossing my hands neatly in my lap. But I heard a soft voice, raspy. “Are you okay?” I looked up briefly. The Wolf. He asked these words with the corners of his mouth turned upward, a ghost of a small chuckle in his voice. I nodded, not looking at him as I focused my attentions to the floor.

I found him undoubtedly charming with his snowy white skin and intense charged orbs. Although, he was awkward, silent most of the time, and clumsy as I learned over the weeks. But most of all, dangerous, deadly. But I am completely and utterly fascinated.

 

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