*Bram*
It’s been three days since Lyra, Jorin, and I tore down those rogues to keep the boy and his mother alive. We trailed them afterward, just long enough to be certain no more threats stalked the edges of Song Pack’s woods. Once they were safe enough, we slipped back into the trees, found where we’d stashed our clothes, and took our human forms again. Jorin stayed with us only a little while longer before vanishing the way he always does, drawn to the forest and to the solitude he claims suits him.
Now it’s just me and Lyra, moving like ghosts through a territory that isn’t ours. Still, I can’t shake the memory of that boy’s small frame pressed against his mother and the calm that washed over their faces as they realized we’d saved them instead of turning on them.
Lyra says fate
