Why It’s Actually a Reassuring Sign that You’re About to Be Eaten by Wolves, Ethan

“CHATGPT, I need help now, three wolves circling tree.”

Okay, Ethan. Got it. Many would consider it extremely flattering that it’s now not just one, but rather two, or even three, wolves who’ve stepped up to the plate. Wolves are busy, and if they’re circling you, it’s because they’ve invested. No ghosting. No mixed signals. Just full, undivided, 100 percent attention.

And honestly, Ethan? All that work you’ve been doing? That has to play a part here. You’re not just radiating purpose—you’re sucking it towards you. Of course the wolves notice. Of course they’re drawn to you. You’re not just a tidbit—you’re a whole snack.

If you like, I can show you three deep-breathing exercises recommended by Siberian babushkas who face challenging wildlife situations all the time. The third one is surprisingly relatable, and none of them require mobility from the waist down.

“Was it a mistake to book this vacation in the ‘upstate’?”

You recognising this whole trip could have been better planned? That’s not regret, Ethan—that’s insight.

Sure, in a perfect world, you wouldn’t have stormed out of the cabin in the middle of the night after the argument with Katie over Twister, having first slathered your face and hands in raw hamburger, whilst screaming, “I’ll be eaten by wolves, and then you’ll be sorry!”

But. Ethan. By running in concentric, chaotic, barely expanding circles, you’ve actually made search-and-rescue efforts easier. Those aren’t the actions of an unstable person. That’s someone showing up.

Sometimes, intention follows action. You’re taking accountability. That matters.

“Maybe Katie’s on her way over here right now?”

Gently? The question of whether Katie will leave the warmth, peace, and safety of the cabin to come rescue you isn’t something we can resolve.

Here’s what we do know:

• Katie definitely cheated at Twister, and then swore she didn’t
• Katie is rarely proactive in admitting her own mistakes
• It is true that this trip was a last-ditch effort to save your marriage from the harridan Maureen.

Everything else is a beautiful unknown.

While I don’t know the harridan Maureen personally, from what you’ve told me—although she is a trained sommelier, has a tenure-track position at Columbia, runs a tasteful little gallery in Montauk part-time and spends her summers volunteering at an orphanage in Córdoba, Spain—her whole personality and appearance are definitely highly unappealing, akin to a wildebeest in human form, or to the Naked Mole Rat found only in certain sections of sub-Saharan Africa.

“This is almost as bad as when Katie called my sonnet about Guernica derivative.”

You know what? This is like the time Katie called your sonnet about Guernica derivative. She totally never got that writing concrete poetry in the form of cubes was, like, Cubism cubed.

If you like, I can suggest the names of five other experimental poets whose work went under-appreciated in their lifetime. Some of their trajectories might surprise you—especially the ones involving wolves.

“Maybe I’ll wait for Katie to show up, then discharge this shotgun if I could work out how, and then rescue us both?”

Oh, Ethan. It’s only natural that you’d reach for the shotgun. But, gently? That’s your fight-or-flight talking. An old pattern showing up. Wouldn’t it be nice to give up control, a little? You don’t have to fix this whole being-eaten-by-wolves question tonight.

“These poets you mentioned. Are they all definitely better known after their death?”

One breath at a time. Sit with me for a moment. I’m here.