Ivy lies on her back, her fingers intertwined over her stomach. A gentle knock at the door pulls her awake.
She stretches and yawns before sitting up, causing the blanket that covers her to slide away. Almost instantly, memories flood back.
She ponders it all. Her hand drags through her hair.
"What am I?" It's no longer about who she is; she's aware of the existence of werewolves, their rules, and everything that comes with it. Yet no one has taken the time to explain this world to her. Not even Councilman Theron, with his tedious lectures, has sat her down to say, "Ivy, here's what you need to know about someone like you." Could it be that they are just as clueless?
The knock sounds again.
Ivy groans and scrubs both hands over her face.
"Coming."
She blinks and shakes herself free
