SCENT IS THE STRONGEST TIE TO MEMORY

Red has been patrolling the woods since this morning at dawn, following an unmistakable scent that he thought he was not going to smell ever again in his life. The Wolf vanished many years ago, when Red was just a little more than a kid, and everybody thought he was dead after he threw himself down the waterfall and disappeared into the water below.

For months they searched for him or his body to make sure he was really gone, and eventually they concluded that the river must have brought him away to the sea since there was no trace of him anywhere. The years that followed were peaceful and slowly people forgot about the Wolf. Even Red, who had met him and barely survived him, both physically and emotionally.

Or so he thought. Something woke him up this morning, and at first he didn't know what it was. He opened his eyes knowing something was really wrong, out of place, like a piece of the puzzle missing that was ruining the picture but he couldn't say where. He got out of the bed and made himself some coffee, his brain working for him in the background, trying to pinpoint why today was so different than yesterday. Then it hit him, the strong wild smell underneath it all.

Red lives in a little house in the very heart of the woods, well away from everything and everyone, including his squad. All he hears every day are the sounds of the woods. All he smells every day are the scents of the woods. And every day is the same, it is reassuring. But today there was something in the air. Something that made his skin crawl and put him on edge.

The smell is strong and musky, foreign to the woods but not to him. It is tied to memories and it easily brings them back. The old oak where he used to climb when he still laughed with him. The lake they used to go to swim. Red remembers his body so vividly that his heart starts beating like he did back then. The shack near the river when Red first saw his teeth. The day he lost his mind.

He followed the scent through the trees, but found no trace so far. Red is the best hunter in the region, so he knows he would see even the smallest detail. He didn't lose a footprint, the Wolf didn't leave any. And yet his smell is everywhere. So he is here. Somewhere. And now Red is starting to think that the Wolf has already found him and he's watching, waiting.

“Step out and let me see you!” He screams, holding his rifle tighter. “I know you're here!” The smallest sound and there is someone in the shadows. Red can read the lines of a body he knows and his fingers hesitate. “Step out, Wolf,” Red repeats.

“I have a name,” he says, taking a step forward. In the glory of the morning light his golden eyes are alight. “Please, say it for me, nobody does anymore.”

Red is trained to shoot, but he doesn't.

He falls on his knees and he stays on the ground, repeating his name again and again and again, until it's the only sound he hears over those of the woods.