The “lone wolf” trope has permeated Western culture for what feels like forever (or at least since Reagan was in office). It is meant to connote notions of going it alone and rugged individuality . Lone wolves don’t need anyone’s help to tackle dangerous situations or, indeed, to face any of life’s travails. Lone wolves wear a lot of leather, ride motorcycles sans helmets, can bullseye a bad guy’s noggin from all the way over there, and can kick your ass using any and every type of martial art practiced in the entire history of kicking people for fun and profit. Lone wolves are strong, vigorous, mysterious, and unknowable. Here’s the thing. Being an actual lone wolf – as in an actual wolf that is not a member of an actual pack – pretty much sucks, and our version of the idea is tediously idealized nonsense. The governing reality in the life of wolves (red and gray) is that they are very social animals – the most pack oriented of all canids, with the possible exception of hyena...
"Into wilderness people travel in search of new life and wonder… Wilderness settles peace on the soul because it needs no help; it is beyond human contrivance." – Edward O. Wilson, The Diversity of Life