Saela’s body felt like it had barely recovered since they had all woken up in that field. In truth, she had barely understood what had been wrong with her, and even now, the reality remained partly blurry. There had been something about internally bleeding, a source of damage that was buried so deeply inside her that trying to locate what was wrong was like trying to find a needle within a haystack.

Ultimately, a healer had—she presumed—and had done the best they could through a series of foul-tasting herbs to staunch whatever bleeding continued to rupture. However, though she was out of the woods, Saela felt far from normal.

Her body remained sore as the day she had woken up in that field, and blue-green contusions still remained dotted along her belly, her legs, and places where her fur could not reasonably hide the sight of pink, damaged skin.

Even her mind, though intact, was jumbled. Her memories were like fractured glass if she tried to recall the leading events, and her heart rate had yet to fully settle. She felt like a flightless bird whose wings had been ripped—keyed on edge and restless, even if her body desired to rest, she could not.

However, the last thing Saela wanted was to be left behind.

Especially after that whole ordeal.

And so she had followed Nate back to the only home she was beginning to know. But this time, she had remained quiet nearly the entire length of their travel back. No quips, no sharp words, not even a joke masked as a compliment.

Instead, she had been too focused on the way her body felt—what aspects of her still hurt, what parts of her felt weak, and watching carefully for signs or symptoms that she might collapse or faint during their trek home. She would have hated for that to happen and for Nate to have to pick her back up and save her all over again.

She refused to make such things a reality.

And so she had gritted her teeth, focused on her body, and moved forward like a ghost behind Nate’s trail.

When they had ultimately reached Lapis Nestle, Saela had finally let out a breath of relief—her body sinking to the ground in quiet exhaustion as she settled on her stomach amid the growing wildflowers. This felt good, she noted to herself, and though she would never voice it, Saela was happy to be back home.

She rolled a quiet, nearly glowing stare toward the rest of those who gathered—a freaky woman whom Saela refused to interact with on the off-chance the woman would lick her lips like she had a few times on their journey back home, Nate, who called for the rest of his friends, and a coy-wolf she vaguely recognized from the few meetings she had spied from the outskirts post that one frozen night.

Saela was certain she knew their name, certain that Nate had spoken of them, but whom they were eluded her for now.

Instead, she watched the rest of them converse, content to finally give her body a moment's rest as the cool touch of the flowers alleviated the soreness tugging at her belly.