Elise’s POV
The cold air struck my face as soon as the two wolves parted the tent flap. Their hands, while not aggressive, held me firmly beneath my arms. They were used to bearing weight, but I wasn’t used to being carried like this. My body, still weak, barely cooperated.
“We need to sit you down,” one of them said, his voice low and emotionless. Before I could respond, I felt myself being carefully lifted, their strong hands keeping me steady as they guided me out of the tent.
In front of me, at the edge of the camp, there was a wheelchair. It was different from mine: rougher, as though improvised or scavenged from somewhere nearby. My lips pressed into a thin line as I stared at it.
Had they considered my condition?
Or did they simply not want to carry me any longer?
“Easy,” the
