Darkness. That's all I saw as I gazed out into the night. I could barely see my hand in front of my face. I could here the crickets chirping and the cicadas buzzing. I suddenly heard yipping then a long mournful high pitched howl.

My coyote! I finally found him again. He was so special, different from the others. His howl was deeper and less yippy. I gazed off into the night wishing I could see him. I had seen him once, I been outside with the porch light on. I saw his bright eyes reflecting the lights and it seemed like they were glowing. I wanted to see him fully.

I wanted to run my hands through his fur. I know it sounds crazy. Most people think I am. Who in the right mind would want to get near one of them? Right? Well me. Ever since I was little, I loved wolves. I longed to be around one, or even be one. For the longest time I wished I could. My parents called me obsessed. I cringed. That word. Obsessed. I loathed it. Every time someone said it I felt as if someone had stuck a giant needle in my throat. I eagerly awaited my thirteenth birthday so I could see if I was a werewolf. Prove my family wrong, but Of course that never happened, or hasn't happened yet. I'm fourteen and have not gotten bitten by a wolf yet. Probably because I live in New Jersey, and the closest thing to wolves here are coyotes.

I wished and hoped to see my coyote walking out from the brush, but who was I kidding, coyotes are scared of humans. You might also be thinking how do you know it's a he? Well my mom saw him walking down our road one day. I wished I was there, but I was at school. It was pretty hard not to tell he was a male. My mom said that his body was huge, twice the size of a normal coyote, she said he looked more like a wolf. I shrugged it off thinking she was just paranoid because she is terrified of them. Suddenly I had a crazy idea. The coyote was near by so maybe he will answer me! I lifted my head upwards and cupped my hands around my mouth. I let out a howl I didn't know I had in me. I tried to make my howl similar to the coyote's, and think I did a pretty good job. I waited in response. My ears listened to every movement of the trees and the silence of the moon. There it was. His long howl back at me. It seemed lighter, less lonely than usual and more welcoming. My heart fluttered. He answered me!

"Emily!!!" My mom screamed from inside. I bolted through the door my head hung low.

"I told you to be quiet! Your brother brother is trying to sleep! And I told you not to call those coyotes again! Do you want them to eat Cooper?" She asked. I gazed down at my adorable Maltese poodle.

"I'm sorry, and of course not! He's my baby," I said while stroking Cooper's ears. I headed upstairs to bed and slightly opened my window. I fell asleep to my coyotes cries. It was as if he was crying out for me. Begging for me to answer him, to hear my howl again, that's at least what I convinced myself, as I laid my head down to sleep.