I walked in silence for a long time, the cool air brushing against my skin as the sun peeked through the tree canopy. Beside me, the gray wolf padded quietly, his steps soundless but steady. Loyal. Always a few inches away from me. Never too far. Never too close.
We hadn't spoken—well, I hadn't spoken—for at least an hour.
But the question had been sitting in my chest, clawing at my throat since last night.
I stole a glance at him. His fur shimmered like steel in the sunlight, those golden eyes watching the path ahead like a soldier on duty.
What are you, really?
The words echoed in my head.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. There was no one else around. Just trees, birds, silence… and him. Maybe that's why I started talking. Or maybe because I was just… tired of holding it all in.
"You know," I said softly, "you're not the first wolf to change my life."
His ears twitched. He didn't look at me, but I knew he was listening.
"I used to love road trips," I whispered. "Especially with my parents. Papa would drive, Mama would sit beside him singing off-key, and I'd sit in the back seat pretending I was a bird flying between the trees."
My chest ached as I smiled bitterly. "We were supposed to visit Grandma in Windhollow that weekend. I was five."
The forest seemed to still around me as I continued, my voice trembling.
"I remember we were laughing. So close to Windhollow. We could already smell the mountain air, hear the crickets through the rolled-down windows."
My hand tightened on my bag strap.
"And then… it came."
The image flickered in my mind, just like it always did—sharp, sudden, blinding.
"A wolf… huge, wild, angry. It leapt in front of the car. Papa swerved, lost control. The world turned upside down. Glass shattered. Metal screamed."
I stopped walking.
The wolf stopped too.
"I screamed too," I whispered. "Not because I was hurt, but because I saw Mama… slumped over the seat. Blood. Papa… still holding the wheel, not moving."
My throat clenched, and my eyes burned.
"I kept shaking them, crying, begging them to wake up. I kept saying, 'Don't go, don't go, please don't go…'" My voice cracked. "I didn't understand death. I thought if I cried enough, the gods would hear me. That maybe they'd feel bad and bring them back."
I knelt by a tree, wiping a tear that slipped down my cheek.
"Someone found me. I don't know who. I still don't. I was told he—or she—carried me to Windhollow First Hospital. I fainted. From crying, I think. From pain."
I let out a shaky laugh.
"I woke up… and Grandma was there. Holding my hand, whispering prayers under her breath."
I glanced at the wolf.
"She told me she heard the town gossip—about a family of three, crushed on the road, the parents gone, but the little girl survived. She rushed to the hospital because my papa… her son… had promised they'd visit that weekend."
A lump swelled in my throat again.
"She didn't even cry when the doctors confirmed it. She just nodded, took me in her arms, and said, 'You are mine now. And I will not let the world break you.'"
The wolf watched me, silent. His golden eyes didn't blink, didn't look away.
"I didn't fit in at first," I whispered. "Windhollow isn't just a small town—it's a different town. Old-world ways. Everyone knew everyone. Everyone whispered."
I leaned back against the tree trunk and stared up at the green above.
"They called me the orphan girl from the woods. Some thought I was cursed. Others pitied me. My only real peace was with Grandma. She taught me everything she knew—healing, mixing, herbs, apothecary secrets. And I held on to it like a lifeline."
I wiped my face again and exhaled.
"I miss them. Every single day. But I learned to stop asking the gods why they took my family… and started asking what I'm supposed to do with the life I have left."
I stood slowly and looked at him again.
"And right now, all I know is this: I have to save Grandma. Because if I lose her too…"
My voice broke again, just for a second.
"…I don't think I can survive it."
The wolf finally stepped forward.
He pressed his head gently against my leg, his breath warm against my skin. Not a sound. Just… comfort. Like he understood every word.
I sank my hand into his fur, fingers curling into the thick softness.
"You're not just a wolf, are you?" I whispered again. "You listen too well. You understand too much."
The wind stirred.
What are you, really?
He looked up at me again, those golden eyes deep and unreadable.
"I don't know what your story is," I said, "but thank you. For staying. For not leaving me like everyone else."
We started walking again.
And for the first time… I didn't feel like I was alone in the world anymore.