A tower room, small slits for windows, candles lit everywhere, lighting the dark tapestries, and the thick red carpet. A young woman kneels there, almost comfortable in the thick carpet, her arms tied behind her back. A cruel-eyed man stands there, his voice cold.

"Who do you belong to?"

No tears in her eyes, just an artic desolation in her heart, she bows her head, and replied,

"No one."

He laughs, and tips up her head to look into those eyes. He asks,

"Where do you belong?"

She pulls her head out of his hand, and almost unbalances herself.

"Nowhere," she snarls.

The wolf wakes up, remembering this dream, seeing the room, knowing what the carpet felt like under her knees, seeing details in the tapestries in the wall. And she knew, however that may have been, she was the woman on the carpet.

The wolf gets up and begins to run, not caring about the direction, but runs, as far and as fast as she can to get away from the dream - she's been running for a long time, but every evening, that dream comes back.