I follow a few paces behind. I’m not going back. Not until I’ve proved Dad right, or wrong. I’m too old for wolf stories now. It’s time I found out the truth. The land gets steeper and rockier. Lucy and I walk slowly, scrambling over huge boulders on our hands and knees. We don’t talk, aware of each sound in the forest. Every snap of a branch makes us stand silent and still, straining to see what’s out there. The paperbarks give way to tall mountain ash. The air is cold and crisp. A cockatoo screeches, high above, and we both jump in fright. Lucy almost smiles, for a moment, then she turns and follows the track. I check my watch – midday. We’ve been carrying these packs for a long time. ‘Lucy. Let’s stop at those rocks ahead, for lunch?’ We scurry up the rough incline. I climb first, stretching for each hold, until I can pull myself onto a smooth rock. Lucy passes both packs and I help her up. ‘Egg sandwich, okay?’ ‘You bet. I’m starving.’ She grins and I can see she’s got crooked teeth, just like me and Mum.
