She was running.
Not just running—flying, it felt like. Her paws struck the earth with practiced grace, white fur streaking past roots and branches, the wind singing in her ears. The world was sharp and bright and alive, every scent dancing on her tongue, every sound echoing through her chest like music.
She leapt over a fallen log, muscles coiling and releasing with effortless strength. Trees blurred past. The moon above was full and heavy, casting silver light over everything. Her heart pounded, not from fear, but from exhilaration.
She caught glimpses of her limbs as she ran—strong, sleek, white-furred legs moving in perfect rhythm. This body wasn’t unfamiliar. It was her, in a way she’d never felt before. Whole. Free.
Then the trees parted, and she skidded into the clearing.
Muddy
