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Honi didn’t want to open his eyes. Nothing good would greet him. His body lay on cold, hard stone, which did little to improve the pain blooming in his ribs. A foot nudged his prone body, and Honi squeezed his eyes closed even tighter. Maybe if he kept them shut, whoever was next to him would go away. His wolf brain processed thoughts more slowly, yet he remembered.
He remembered turning—the shock and desperation when he’d opened his eyes and could only see shades of black and white. The confusion when his sensitive nose was inundated with scents he shouldn’t have been able to smell. Cat urine under a layer of soap under a layer of footprints under a layer of grease.
He couldn’t have described the complexity of the experience if somebody had asked him. There weren’t enough words in t
