FAO
The world was too loud.
That was the first thing I noticed about being human — everything was muted except the sounds. As a wolf, I could hear a rabbit's heartbeat from fifty yards away, but the sounds had been layered, organized, easy to parse. Now everything crashed together in a chaotic symphony: the hum of the cold-box in the kitchen, the drip of water from somewhere, the creak of the wooden structure around us, her heartbeat, her breathing, the rustle of her clothes when she moved.
And I couldn't smell anything properly.
Well. That wasn't quite true. I could smell her — would always be able to smell her, the bond made sure of that. But everything else was flat, dull, like trying to see through fog.
"Okay," she said, setting down her cup of dark liquid. Coffee. She'd called it
