There is a cabin that sets far back in the woods of the Great Northwest. The only way to get there is to hike in and I have done that many times. I can smell the musty, moldy smell of wet decaying leaves and wood. It is a pleasant smell and lets me know that I am getting close to home. Grey is always with me on this hike. He stops and sniffs the air then turns to me as if to say "We are close" "Almost home" As we get closer we are joined by two more wolves. They are smaller than Grey and approach him submissively. They are his pack and they have been waiting for us to return. I climb the last rise and there nestled in a small opening is home. A quaint log cabin surrounded by trees so tall that they seem to touch the sky. Sunlight dances between the branches dappling the ground in light. We have hiked for several hours and it is good to see home. Grey approaches carefully followed by Dakota and Cheyenne. They slowly circle the cabin sniffing the air and the ground. Grey bounds back to me and I know it is safe for me to enter. I slowly push open the door, take off my pack and drop it by the door. I light the fire already laid in the fireplace and begin to light the lamps. A soft glow illuminates the room and the fire begins to crackle as it slowly ignites. I pull off my boots and cross to the sofa. Dakota and Cheyenne lay quietly by the door as Grey stretches out in front of the fire. As the room begins to warm a peace settles over all of us. Here we are peaceful, safe, and lost in solitude. As the sun begins to set the darkness settles in all around us and we begin to hear the calls of the night creatures. Owls hoot softly and fly into the night. Small creatures scurry through the underbrush. I put on water for tea and settle in to enjoy the quiet. As I walk to the bedroom I notice yellow roses on the table beside the bed. So, he has been here today. How did he know I was coming back? He talks to the creatures, too, so I am sure they told him. I go back, make my tea, & settle into the sofa wrapped in a soft blanket. Grey joins me, his head resting on my leg as Dakota and Cheyenne settle in front of the fire for the night. They will not roam tonight. I sip my tea and wonder why I ever left the peace of this place. But I know the answer...I have given it to him often enough. I am a seeker, a wanderer. I have a gypsy spirit and search for adventure. But wanderlust does not have as strong a hold these days. I find myself wandering less and coming back here more frequently. Maybe this time I will stay. I drift off to sleep before a warm fire, as the moon rises, listening to the breath of Grey as it matches my own.