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The sound of another approaching made her flinch, ears folding back against her skull as her breath hitched mid-sob. Her head jerked up from where it had been buried against her forelegs, lilac eyes still wet and glassy. For a moment, she just stared, unable to make sense of what she was seeing—this huge wolf with the smell of iron and something sour clinging to him like rot. He looked wrong somehow, or maybe it was her who was wrong now, born into a body that didn’t feel like her own.

Her throat worked once, twice, before she managed to find her voice. I—I don’t know, she whispered when he asked what was wrong. The words came out thin and shaking. Everything. A nervous laugh trembled from her chest, half a sob. I… I think I died.

She didn’t know why she said it aloud. Maybe she just needed someone to hear it, to make it real.

Her gaze drifted, lingering on the splatters of red along his chest and muzzle. The scent made her stomach twist, but she tried—gods, she tried—not to recoil. There was something almost kind in the way he tilted his head, the way he softened his stance. She wanted to believe that kindness was real. That maybe not everyone in this strange, impossible world was cruel.

You— she hesitated, her voice a soft quaver. You’re hurt? she asked, gesturing faintly with her nose to the blood, even though she wasn’t sure if it was his. Or… or was it something else?

Despite her fear, Odessa took a tentative step forward. Her movements were slow, hesitant, like a fawn trying to walk on new legs. Her eyes—those pale, shimmering eyes—searched his face, looking for some small sign that she wasn’t completely alone here. I don’t mean trouble, she murmured, lowering her head. I just… don’t know where I am.

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