'Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of the human spirit.' - Edward Abbey

After years of scrimping and saving, I was finally going home. Well, home is a slight exaggeration. I was unsure whether you could call the place you were dumped as a three-week-old infant by your estranged parents could be classed as such. But after twenty years of not knowing the pull had become too strong. It was official I was going back to where it had all begun.

Scraping my hair into a messy bun I tried to relax in my seat. It was a four-hour plane journey to Green Meadow. I'd done some research, and nothing overly jumped out at me that this was the type of town known for abandoning a small child or any crime for that matter. It was a quiet and rural town nestled in rolling hills; it'd been voted one of the most idyllic places to live three years running which Is why I was pleasantly surprised when I started looking at places to rent, that the prices were actually quite affordable.

I'd still need to get a job, but I wouldn't be struggling to make ends meet. I had no idea how long I'd be staying there, I guess until I found answers but not knowing what to expect if anything was putting me on edge.

I knew some people would question why I was going back to where such a tragic event occurred, but that didn't bother me. I wanted to know who I was and where I came from, I had little to no information about my family so in my mind starting off where I was found was the logical way forward. I'd never stayed in a place long enough to become emotionally attached to the place and people around me, this had always been my plan. To return back to Green Meadow, to the point of where it'd become somewhat of an unhealthy obsession.

But now it was real, it hadn't really sunk in until I was packing up my belongings that I'd actually done it. I was jarred from my thoughts when the piolets voice suddenly came through the speakers announcing that we were beginning our decent. It was only a forty-five-minute taxi ride from the airport to Green Meadow and I was thankful that I'd booked the car in advance so I wouldn't have to wait any longer than necessary to get to the cabin I was renting, the travelling had utterly exhausted me. However, I put that down to the adrenaline.

After collecting my bag from the carousel, I made my way to the exit, hoping that the driver was already there waiting for me. My phone had died shortly after the plane took off and I had no other way to contact the company as I'd stupidly forgotten to write their number down in case an event such as this happened. Thankfully as I walked out the door an old man with salt and pepper coloured hair was stood in front of a shiny black car with the words Spencer Williams scrawled across a piece of card.

I'd decided early on to keep the name that was given to me at birth, even though I'd been asked many times by the various families I'd stayed with over the years if I'd like to change it. The answer had always stayed the same, a definite no. In my mind this was the only defining piece of information I had about myself and where I came from. To some it was only a name but to me it was much more than that.

After confirming with the driver that I was the person on his sign and placing my bag in the boot of the car, I slid into the back seat and for the first time today I finally let myself relax. I was secretly glad that the driver made no attempt to talk to me, not in an awful way but I was much too tired to hold a conversation with anyone let alone why I was traveling all this way to a small town in the middle of nowhere and I would've hated to of came across rude and uninterested.

The journey went by quicker than I'd expected, it may have been down to the fact I'd fallen asleep minutes after the car pulled away from the airport. The driver went to retrieve my case from the boot after I insisted, I could do so myself. My protests were only answered with a warm smile and a chuckle. While my bags were being retrieved, I took the time to take in the house in front of me.

It was a gorgeous two-story old stone building with bay windows and a small porch wrapped around the back half of the house. What I loved even more about house was where situated, on the edge of a large Thirteen-acre wood. I was in awe of my new surroundings I'd never seen something so surreal and beautiful as this before.

I was roused from my day-dreaming by the driver. "Your bags Miss. Where would you like them?"

"Just by here is fine" I replied with a smile, "I can manage it from here." His reply came in the form of another smile. It only took a moment for my bags to appear at my feet. After exchanging a quick goodbye, I was left in front of the house.

I'd only been here for less than half an hour and something about Green Meadow felt right. I felt at ease here, something I'd never experienced before. Id had many 'homes' but none had ever felt like this.

Get it together spence, I mentally scolded myself. I wasn't planning on staying long, the lease I had on the house was only for a twelve month and I wasn't planning on prolonging my stay, regardless of how I felt about the place.

Fishing the keys to the house from my bag and placing them in the lock, I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

'Holy shit' was the only words I could use to describe the sight before me. Miss Annabelle Baker, the old lady I'd rented the house from sure knew interior design. Much like the outside of the house the interior had been left so the occupant could appreciate the beauty of the old stone used to build the house. Looking up to the roof, exposed beams lined the celling the whole living area was completely breath taking.

The colour scheme matched the houses personality perfectly, different shades of grey and cream complimented each other through the living space. Taking a few steps further inside I began to notice a few more details. Fairy lights were strung around the room, their placement wasn't methodical, but I had no doubt that it would look stunning when I turned them on.

I walked over to the light grey sofa and sunk down into the plush material and for the first time in a long time I let out a long sigh of relief. My gaze shifted to the kitchen area and a small white box wrapped in a red ribbon caught my eye. Curiosity had always been one of my weaknesses, I hauled myself up from the sofa and made my way over to the small island that the box was sat on.

I slowly lifted the lid from the box and couldn't contain the grin when I saw what was inside. A plate of the most delicious looking cookies I'd ever seen, but what surprised me more was what accompanied the cookies. A small folded piece of paper with my name written in beautiful cursive across the front. Picking up the note I started reading.

Dear Miss Williams,

I hope this note finds you well. I'm deeply sorry that I was unable to meet you at the house when I arrived, something unexpected cropped up. However, I will be over to meet you in person tomorrow evening. If you've not already found out the fridge, freezer and cupboards are completely stocked. I do hope everything there is to your liking. If you ever need anything please don't hesitate to call, day or night.

The note was utterly heart-warming, and I could tell I was going to like Annabelle already and I'd not even met the old lady, she oozed grandmother material. But something at the bottom of the note caused my breathing to hitch and my pulse to spike.

P.s leave your bedroom window open at night, that way you'll be able to hear the wolves sing.

I let out a shaky breath and placed the note back on the counter top. Images of wild wolves flooded my mind with such a force I had to grab onto the counter to prevent my legs from giving way.

Various flashbacks sifted through my mind from the younger years of my life, overheard conversations from years of social workers long forgotten slammed into the forefront of my mine, memories that I'd thought were long suppressed.

Theoretically, I shouldn't be alive. Well, let me rephrase that, the hospital I was brought too when I was found at a mere three weeks old had no idea how I'd survived on my own that long until they were told the story, my story.

'three-week old infant found nestled between wolf pups.'

'miracle baby found living with wolves.'

Were all the headlines screamed about for weeks after I was found. Their angle shifted ever so slightly when the hype of an abandoned baby died down and focused more on the people who'd left me there, my parents.

I'd sifted through countless articles and paper extracts when I was old enough to understand what'd happened to me. Hours and hours of sitting in local library's and reading peoples assumptions and theory's on why I was there, when in fact no one knew. Not even me. The first three weeks of my life were an enigma, one that I was intending to crack while I was here.

I was suddenly exhausted; the travelling had finally caught up to me and I was ready to crash for the night. Dragging myself and my luggage upstairs, I found my room easily enough and a content smile made its way to my lips.

A king-sized sleigh bed greeted me as I walked through the door and I couldn't stop myself from running and jumping onto the mattress like an exited toddler. After revelling in all the excess space I'd have, I slipped into shorts and a baggy shirt and climbed into bed. But not before cracking the window open slightly, it was the middle of winter and the chill would be sure to wake me in a few hours but that didn't matter.

Just as I was falling asleep, I heard it. Quiet at first but the sound began to grow. The eerie song of the Green meadow wolves had begun.