The forest beyond the house stretches endlessly in every direction, the trees drenched in dawn light are full of birds chattering to one another about bird things. Tiny bird politics.
I sink onto the wooden decking of my balcony and pull my knees to my chest, the plan is to just sit for a while. For the first time in days my brain doesn't feel stuffed full of cotton wool. I've had flu before, even caught swine flu when that was a thing, but I've never had a fever like this. I know it's not gone quite yet, because the back of my eyes are still sweaty.
Probing my psyche, making sure that tears and pleading aren't at the forefront, I take a few bricks from the dam I've built to hold questions back. A little trickle starts through.
What's more likely, that people who can turn into wolves ar
