A summer at the seaside had brought Spiderlily some measure of peace. Even if she was farther from home than ever, even if her nose was steadily losing its sense of smell. She spent her birthday lying in the sand, chewing on a coconut and finding she couldn’t crack it no matter how hard she tried. Fish had been her primary food source for much of her sabbatical, and she had come out the other side with shiny, short fur and health flushing her cheeks. The sickly mountainous girl had become a sharp seaside woman, seaspray tangled into her fur.

But remembering what she’d left behind had brought pain into her retreat, and as the world tipped closer and closer to fall, she found herself missing what she had no idea how to find. Maybe she could make her way back, could find the hole she’d fallen through that had spat her at the seaside. That had drove her inland, but her dwindling sense of smell hadn’t helped her much, and she found herself helplessly lost all over again. Lily clicked her tongue, the stonework around her magnificent, but she didn’t care. Instead, she trawled deeper into the odd ruins, mouth open to try and catch anything.

But there was nothing. Maybe the faintest of smoke scent hiding in far away corners, but no wolves. Nothing she could parse. Just her, and the silent stone watching her fruitless journey.