I was in Kuhmo. We were outside on the front of the house, and my sister told me to look into backyard - there was a fox in there. I looked in there, and tried to go near the fox - but the fox ran away. I soon noted that it had not got scared of me, but rather the wolf that was coming right at me. I was thinking the wolf was going to bite me. It leaned against me, trying to get close. I thought the wolf was a bit small one, even when when it was leaning against me its head was on the same level as my chest. The head looked smaller than average wolf's head. Maybe it was a young wolf. The wolf couldn't bite me, because I kept dodging, and it only could nibble me a bit in the arm.

When I went to the backyard second time, the wolf tried this thing again, but the third time, it was all nice and didn't bother anyone. My father had some stuff lying around the front of the house (a washing machine taken apart, I think), and the wolf just walked among the things. Everyone had come out to see the wolf. The wolf was mostly a black and dark gray one, thing with only some white fur here and there, and looked rather skinny and young, and was bigger than any dog in the neighborhood.

This will be the fifth time I've dreamed this in two weeks. Paranoia is running rampant through my mind. I figured I'd share some of it here. Maybe it's catching.

I'm holed up in my house. Blinds drawn against the sun, or maybe against prying eyes. Darkness living room, darkness house. I can smell the ripe, decaying sweetness of the dead. My children and I quiet, not wanting to attract attention.

Someone, somewhere has fucked up big time. Death is loose in the world. I'm not sure whether our rural living has saved us, or if for some strange reason we are immune. Heat shimmering across the landscape. I can hear cattle bawling at the ranch next door. Then E comes home and we make plans to leave.

E leaves, then comes back with 3 horses, and 2 mules from a riding stable nearby*. I've been packing meanwhile, putting food that will last in airtight containers. Packing books I think we may need (midwifery? woodcrafting?). Our camping gear. Wishing ferverently that I'd been one of those survival freaks. Oh I wished. Scared to death, with three small children. My years of catching food, skinning, living off the land are far far behind me. I thank the Gods I've lost weight and am in better shape, my fibro contained. E returns from the shed and his packing to tell me we are heading towards the Appalachians.** We start riding and I can feel the coolness of the shade, the dappled green texture of the woods.

*I didn't know we even HAD a riding stable nearby until discussing this with E later.
**Same with the Appalachians, I didn't know why he'd want to go there, until discussing it with him afterwards.
There was a pit full of limed up body bags. Somehow, they are some people from the Holocaust being covered up by the government. But one of the bodies was not human... and it was wearing a red sweater and baggy pants and walking with me and two generic government agents. The thing in the red sweater was your typical grey big-eyed alien. We walked into the facility. It turned into a ferry... the alien wanted off. It turned into my sister. Then, I was back in the facility. There was a Halo battle going on, and I had no weapon. I fled, going through corridor after corridor, room after room, searching for an assault rifle, a plasma pistol... hell, even a needler. The Covenant would be after me any moment; but there were no bodies near to pillage, no grenades laying around.
I decided to get up. Things were just way too weird.

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