“I’m delighted to finally meet you, Cloette.”
The white wolf saunters forward. As it does, glittery smoke, which I didn’t notice before, envelopes it. I stay still, unguarded, disconcerted.
“Am I dreaming?”
That question is only for myself, but the wolf answers.
“No, you’re not. You’re currently traipsing the depth of your subconsciousness.”
I’m in my… what? My twisted face generates a laugh from the wolf’s huge mouth.
“Buckle up. It’s about time that we’ll get to know each other.”
My face softens. If this wolf is me, as what it revealed, then that means that I really am a werewolf. I’m in doubt about it. Fingers crossed, this wolf could eliminate that skepticism. There are so many things that’s disturbing me about werewolves and their world. Though Micah has thrown some lights on
