The rusty, red wolf galloped through the city streets easily.  She knew the way well for she had traveled this same path nearly every night.  Her limbs moved easily and freely beneath her.  Running was one of her favorite things.  It was such an enjoyment for her that even the dreary hopelessness of the night's journey couldn't bring her down so long as she was in motion.  She followed the familiar streets until she came to an old tavern.  She slipped in the back, careful to avoid any people.  Once in, she vaulted onto a high shelf and slipped into a dark hole in the wall above the shelf.  A set of cheaply carpeted stairs rose in front of her.  Without a break in movement, she leapt up the stairs, three, sometimes four at a time.  The old stairs weren't very many to begin with and she was at the top within seconds.  Here she hesitated outside an old door.  The whole place was dark, old and had an enclosing feel about it.  She paused a moment more, then quietly pushed the door ajar and slipped in.  
    The room was small and dark, lit only by a couple small candles fitted upon the wall in furnishings of unknown age.  She proceeded forward to the back right hand corner of the room, past the old, mangy looking human sitting just inside the door.  There, in the corner, huddled in shadows, was he.  He was here every night, alone in this depressing, dingy corner of the city, hidden up in a dark room with only a grim beggar for company.  He never talked, though the she-wolf spoke to him every time she came.  As she looked at him, her heart mourned for what once was.  Now there was only a defeated mound of dark fur that hid in the shadows and refused to return to the light.  She spoke to him, but, as usual, there was no reply.  The tears burned in her eyes.  It was frustrating, so very frustrating to hope for a change, then watch your hopes get dashed repeatedly.  She lowered her head so that it was even with his and looked him straight in the eye.  He diverted his despondent gaze to a shadowed corner.  The she-wolf ignored this and spoke.  "If I could make you young again and make your life something beautiful...I would."  His eyes shifted and met hers.  They stayed that way for several moments gazing into each others eyes in the close darkness of the dingy room.  The hardness in his eyes faded slightly before he turned fully away from her.  "You only complicate things," he said gruffly as he rose and went out through the door that she had come in.  
    The beggar in the corner shifted his weight and spoke to the she-wolf.  "He goes out ev'ry night 'round this time.  I 'spectin' it's out to drown his sorrows in the dark parts of the city he goes," the old man rasped.
    The she-wolf sighed.  The wolf had actually made eye contact and had spoken to her tonight, but had it been a step forward or a step back?  She left the room and went down the stairs quietly.  Perhaps another night's visit would have a better outcome...perhaps.