I wasn’t prey.
I was irrelevant.
The cabin door opened.
Isolde stepped out holding a chipped enamel bowl.
She said one name, softly, like it had been said a thousand times before:
“Branwen. Easy now.”
The wolf lowered his head and moved toward her with a careful reverence that didn’t belong to a predator.
When she touched him under the jaw, he leaned into her hand like it anchored him to the world.
I stood there frozen, understanding with absolute certainty that if anyone else saw this…
the ridge would echo with gunfire.
So I said nothing.
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