Geneva didn't know how long she lay by the fire in the golden man's house. Here eyes were closed, but her keen ears atttuned to the sounds around her. The gentle sloshing of liquid in a mug, the crackling of the fire, occasional grunts of satisfaction, and eeries noises coming from the darkness outside.
Eventually, the man spoke, in a low, rich baritone.
"So, Little Wolf, you've somehow wandered into a place where your kind isn't supposed to be able to find. You must either be very powerful, or very desperate. Which is it?"
She stayed silent. He waited a few moments, the spoke, his tone a little more authoratative.
"I know you're not asleep - there's no sleep in this realm. If you want help, you need to speak up."
I don't need help, I'm glad to be on my own.
"Oh?"
She was weak.
"
