I was thirteen years old the first time I saw them.

I was riding my bike alone down Grice Bay Road near Long Beach. It was a quiet day, the kind of overcast that makes the rainforest feel even more mysterious. Suddenly, a pack of wolves—at least eight of them—stepped silently out onto the road in front of me. They were calm, focused, and utterly unbothered by my presence. For a moment, time stood still. I was mesmerized. Then, just as quietly, they disappeared into the trees, and I turned around and rode home, heart pounding.