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Bragi hadn't left her den much at all since the trip. Call it culture shock, she supposed. The dizzying, overwhelming realization that there was an entire world out there past the boundaries of their little island, where highly intelligent wolves and other creatures knew how to ferment fruits for wine and organize community events.

She'd been flirting with the notion for months — or maybe years; she still didn't know long she'd been here — but having it sink in all at once like that kinda made her want to cry. She was never going back, was she? Did she even want to? Were the few flashes of memory she'd managed to retain even worth hanging on to? Some were nice, but others felt like dying. Wouldn't it be easier to just forget? Forget all of it and just let herself get swept up in the roaring tide of this strange world.

She laid curled in a tight little ball, her tail draped over her face, and listened to the rain drum lightly against the roof of the little alcove she'd carved for herself. She could just forget. Could just close her eyes and sink into the abyss and never have to worry about anything anymore.

Her legs prickled, like they were waking up after having just gone numb. She felt it spread, until it'd engulfed her entire body. The soft pitterpatter of the rain outside grew softer, still. Distant. She could barely feel the fur and nettles and fresh moss beneath her. Her stomach lurched, sickeningly. She felt like she was floating.

She hoped, quietly, that she wouldn't come back.


But then there was something... wet, soaking into the fur of her back, and a pressure that wasn't there before.

With effort, Bragi managed to peel her eyes open. Groggy, disoriented, she turned blearily to look over her shoulder.

A pair of puppy blue eyes stared back at her.

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