The Day the Lone Wolf Myth Died

The Day the Lone Wolf Myth DiedIn the valley below my house, the coyotes call at night. Except, they aren’t just coyotes anymore, they’re hybrids, part wolf, part coyote, something harder to categorize and harder to fight. You rarely see the whole pack at once. More often, you hear them, a scatter of calls, laughter that isn’t quite laughter, an echo that makes you realize you are surrounded without ever seeing the circle close.That’s how it feels watching society now. A few flashes here and there, a stray comment from a leader, a celebration of someone’s death online, an act...