PROLOGUE
Each heartbeat echoed like a drum in my ears as I sprinted through the labyrinthine alleyways, clutching a pouch I'd swiped from a particularly unpleasant woman earlier. I could replay the entire heist in my mind, the memory etched vividly in my thoughts.
"Hey! Move aside, old man!" The woman's harsh command cut through the air as she exited her car, her voice dripping with disdain. Without a second thought, she shoved the elderly man with such force that he teetered on the brink of falling. "That's what you get for putting on a fashion show!"
I couldn't resist a sarcastic jab, even though my attention was fixated on the pouch she held with an iron grip.
That's when my plan sprang into action. I approached the elderly man, extending a hand to help him back up.
"Th-thank you, young lady," he stammered, and all I could manage in response was a mischievous grin.
"What do you think you're doing?" the woman interjected, her raised eyebrow hinting at trouble.
"Helping the old man," I replied with an extra dash of sarcasm. Before she could unleash her fury, I seized the moment, snatching the pouch and locking eyes with her in a shared moment of shock before I bolted away.
And that's how I found myself here, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. I sought refuge in the shadowy corners of the alley, aware that five guards had passed by in pursuit.
Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. I soon felt a familiar sensation coursing through my body, as if electricity surged back and forth within me, threatening to burst free. My left hand, in particular, throbbed with this strange energy.
What in the world was happening to me?
Fear gripped me as I clutched my left hand, which had grown numb and heavy, as though it no longer belonged to me. Collapsing to the ground, I tried in vain to lift my left hand with my right, but it remained stubbornly unresponsive.
I sweated profusely, shivering with terror. Was this some divine retribution for my life of theft?
As my trembling escalated, I couldn't focus on anything else. An intense itch clawed at my left palm, so maddeningly strong that it seemed to beg for a sharp blade.
I gritted my teeth, enduring the pain as best I could. It felt as if my left palm cried out for something to scrape against it, as if there was an itch only a blade could scratch.
Desperation drove me to scratch at it with my fingers, my eyes squeezed shut, releasing soft moans as sweet relief washed over me. It was as if something inside my hand had shifted, and my eyes flew open in alarm.
Had it been a mere hallucination, or was it real?
My eyes scanned my surroundings, but there was no ominous presence in sight.
Without wasting any time, I snatched the stolen pouch, disregarding its contents. My priority now was to find something sharp, and I quickly located a small blade. Without hesitation, I plunged it into the tattoo on my palm, and the excruciating pain that followed was indescribable. It felt as though my very flesh was tearing apart.
Gasping, I crumpled to the ground, my vision dimming as I teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.
My eyes fluttered open, and I was momentarily disoriented by the sunlight warming my face.
"D-Did I fall asleep yesterday? Why? What happened?"
A strange liquid on my left palm caught my attention, and I recoiled in disgust.
"Yuck!" I exclaimed, instinctively attempting to wipe it away. But my revulsion was quickly replaced by bewilderment as I realized that there was something unusual on my chest.
A white dog rested atop me, and I couldn't fathom how it had gotten there. I have no recollection of bringing a dog with me.
My fingers brushed against the soft, fluffy fur, and my heart skipped a beat. It was the same tail I'd seen in my dream—the one belonging to the fox.
Why was my dream seemingly becoming a reality?
Memories of my fainting spell rushed back to me—the sensation that something had emerged from my left palm, a feeling I had dismissed as mere nightmares.
Could it be that my dreams were more than just imagination? Could they manifest in reality?
I scrutinized my left palm, which was inexplicably covered in saliva. It struck me suddenly. Did the creature from my dream truly lick the wound in my palm?
Fear and curiosity warred within me as I gingerly removed the dog from my chest. Its golden eyes bore into mine, and an unspoken connection passed between us. It felt as if this creature could peer deep into my soul.
Summoning my courage, I inhaled deeply, trying to quell the racing of my heart. "Nice to meet you, white foxy..."
In response, the fox smiled – a grin that belonged to a wild creature ready to pounce.
I gasped as the fox suddenly lunged forward, sinking its teeth into my right arm.
"Ahh!" I screamed in agony as the fox's teeth pierced my flesh. Desperately, I tried to pull my arm away, and the fox's bite slowly loosened.
As I touched my bleeding arm, I noticed saliva smeared around the wound. Then, an astonishing realization struck me – my blood had tamed the wild creature.
The fox knelt before me, and I couldn't help but giggle as it playfully licked my face and my bleeding hand.
