I went hiking in the forest, alone.
It was a ridiculously pretty spring day, you know the kind. The sun smiles over quiet little lakes where birds play in the water, blackbirds and robins serenade each other, the cutest little flowers sprout everywhere, an enticing path winds among ancient trees. Not another human being for miles. The breeze in the pines the only background noise.
I spent a good part of the hike worrying. Mostly about being eaten. I made a mental list of dangerous beasts I was most likely to encounter. Bear, extremely unlikely. Wolf, highly unlikely but not out of the question. Elk, quite possibly, but not likely to eat me. Adder, fairly possible and likely to at least take a bite out of me.
I had almost convinced myself to stop worrying and just enjoy the day when I heard, at a distance, a wolf pack howling. Seriously, a wolf pack.
Or a bunch of huskies in the nearest village, I told myself hastily. It's just that, according to the map, there was only deep forest in the direction of the noise. I have never seen a wolf in the wild, but some people around here have. Nobody seems to ever hear them howl.
I froze. Considered the likelihood of being eaten again. Then I realised I had suddenly stopped worrying. I was absolutely, overwhelmingly thrilled by the fact that I was - just maybe - listening to ... wild wolves howling.