Today's OneWord: Wolf

How many times did I step outside, I wondered, into that harsh, cold air, the coils of frost like chainmail across my caved in torso, and see that same wolf leering at me from behind the dying redwood tree? She did not come close to me - no, she did not see me as prey or enemy. But she always looked at me. Each morning, as I went out to collect wood or go to the shed, she was there, yellow eyes blazing even against sheets of falling snow, her jaw set as if she were chewing something she could not fully break down.