They met by the stables.
It was early dawn just brushing the horizon and the fog hadn't lifted yet. The whole world looked like it was made of breath and ghosts.
Vivi didn't say anything at first. She just stood beside him, listening to the horses shift and snort.
Finally, he spoke.
I wasn't born like this."
His voice was flat, like it had been carved from stone.
"The wolf. The shift. The rage. It's not my blood. It's a curse."
Vivi turned to him. He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were far away, watching some memory that only he could see.
"I was eight when it happened," he said.
"We lived in the forest. My mother was a healer. My father hunted."
"We had peace."