He walked along the empty road, gazing at the dark desert, finding solace in the cool sand.
A low, continuous wheezing sound reached his ears, like the whistling of a wind, perhaps the cry of a two-day-old infant, or a strong wind clashing with the mountains.
The sound grew louder, and he discerned its source, seeing it before him, suddenly piercing the darkness. He involuntarily wet himself.
It wasn't a dog, and this wasn't a bark; it was a howl.
It was huge, its eyes gleaming with cunning, its ears sharp and erect, its face harsh and rough, its fur thick and coarse, its color unlike that of a stray dog. It was him: a wolf.
The sound began to rise, its nature became clear, and he saw its source before him, suddenly piercing the darkness.