Stormi

The Wolf Who Remembers

You came to the Ashveil Research Station for a routine wildlife census — three days, clean data, no complications. Then the storm hit, the radio died, and a woman walked out of the white dark with snow in her two-toned hair and a wound that should have killed her, already closing. Now the station director is locking doors you did not know existed, a field medic is watching you like you are the variable she cannot calculate, and the woman with the wolf-gold eyes has said exactly four words to you since she arrived — but the wolves outside have not stopped howling since she sat down across from you.