for the broken - yet t

g. Weak

in my shoulder where a thorny branch had torn through my skin last night. My

I wal

e, but the fire in my heart - the one that rejec

die here. No

but I wasn't fooled. These woods weren't secure. Feral wolves - rogues - prowled here.

ng, but it would protect me from the winds - and from predators. I crawled in

was louder t

ilence, my w

s at a wolf's soul. Pushing her from the pack weakened her conne

ung to ea

hispered to her.

und. It felt like fire, but the bleeding slowed. I found berries by a stream - tiny and tart, but enou

ht up with me on

and musky, like rot and blood. T

rack in the cave

their coats were defined by ripped fur and open sores. They weren't pack wolves.

actly what they w

like stones. "Heard she was a looker. Rejected

od wen

d, hitting the st

ng it would do no good. "I h

darling, you have everything. That scent? You'r

att

d in agony as my form changed, torn between

, bones cracking, fur tearing through torn skin. But when I was on all fours, I

ra

lungs. I could hear their snarls behind me, the thudding of paws chasin

erat

mped over fallen logs. One of them clipped my hind leg, and a wave of pai

w. Not

n in a fall into a rocky brook below. The icy water shocked the breath f

ere at the ridge, snarling down

the river. Or maybe some

o the riverbank, soaked and blee

arely. B

p, morning ha

. My fur was matted, and my leg

running down my face as my bones rearranged themselves. I was

without

without

ye

stan

a tree and, with a jagged ro

rv

's what I wo

r the pack that had re

ho had once be

ill had something g

one who had no idea that fate was pre