Danielle looked around her at the clearing, her vision sharp. She looked upwards to the sky. A full moon. She glanced down at herself. White fur.
Where was she? Why was she a wolf again? Was this another dream?
She stepped forward, paws silent on the mossy earth, sniffing the air. It was cool, pine-tinged, and thick with something ancient. Magic clung to the ground like mist. It pulsed underfoot.
And then, without sound, the clearing filled.
White wolves emerged from the forest, their forms slipping through the shadows like breath. One by one, they entered the circle and took their place in perfect formation. Danielle didn’t move. They didn’t see her. They didn’t acknowledge her. Just like last time.
She wasn’t really here. This was definitely a dream. Another gift of the moon. Twice
