The world returns to me in pieces.
Not sight. Not sound. Vibration.
The air itself trembles, humming with a frequency my bones recognize before my mind does. It pulls at the seal inside me, tugging like invisible hands trying to split it apart. My body jerks weakly against the ground. Silver flickers beneath my skin in frantic, broken flashes.
I cannot move. I cannot think. But I feel everything.
All around me, wolves shift into their half forms. Bones crack, claws tear from fingers, fur ripples up their arms. Warriors form a defensive ring, bodies low, teeth bared. Their growls shake the air, but underneath the noise lies a thick, undeniable tremor.
Fear.
The creature is advancing.
Its form flickers like a broken reflection in a cracked mirror. Shifting moonlight flows through it.
