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And I saw what they had.
Saw a tiny fawn, curled up with its spotty body doing its best to camouflage, its head buried beneath gangly legs. It was in a glade where the sun had been shining to keep it warm while its mother grazed, but now the sun had gone, and it shivered.
I gasped and tripped backward, breaking the link with the wolves.
They didn’t try to stop me. They merely huffed under their breath and took off back into the forest, expecting us to follow.
The stranger offered me his hand. “You flinched again—just like you did when you saw the deer. Are you okay?”
I raised my chin, forcing myself to shed the shock at looking through wolfen senses. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
“Ready to chase?” he asked, his legs bunching to run.
I nodded, even as my mind whirled with questions about how I’d felt a living animal’s spirit when up till now it’d only been the dead.
He broke into speed instantly, following his pack and leaving me to trail behind. I ran as swiftly as I could, picturing the image of the fawn that the wolves had given me, searching the shadowy pockets of rotting tree trunks and tangled bushes.
My breasts bounced uncomfortably, and my feet, used to treading over river rock and grasslands, weren’t pleased with sharp twigs and pinching debris.
But I refused to stop.
I kept chasing as the wolves led us closer to the kill site. My heart chugged with reluctance to return. Thankfully, they veered off, circling the blood-soaked soil and leading us to the glade I’d seen in the wolves’ mind.
I slammed to a stop just as the stranger slowed. He ran his hand along the back of the closest wolf. The other two wolves lowered their heads and sniffed their way to a thick tuff of wildflowers.
My breath came shallow as I moved toward them. Drifting past the stranger, my eyes locked on the tiny creature huddled and shaking on the ground.
My heart broke at how fragile and lonely it was.
Had I looked like that when I’d wandered the world alone? Had I been so vulnerable and small?
I wished I could give it back its mother. To clear away the heavy sadness radiating from the tiny thing.
But its mother was gone, and the stranger was right.
It was mine now.
It was mine because I wouldn’t be able to leave it to die. It was my responsibility to give it life after its mother had given hers to nurture the pack.
With gentle hands, I brushed aside the wolves watching closely, and dropped to my knees before it. My spine prickled, and a single tear ran down my cheek as I reached out and ran my fingers along the velvety softness of the fawn.
I didn’t care that the wolves had gone against instinct and done what the stranger had asked. I didn’t stop to think how predators had defended prey.
Those questions could come later—when I knew how to ask them.
The fawn flinched, squeezing tighter, burying its head deeper into its belly. Its ribs strained beneath a pelt of red-brown and white spots; its large ears pinned back with terror.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, stroking it again. “You’re safe.”
It didn’t unravel. If anything, it curled into an even tighter ball.
A wash of pure panic tainted the air around it.
I stilled with my hand on its trembling back.
How could I feel its panic?
How could I see what the wolves had seen?
I didn’t understand anything about these gifts that seemed to be unravelling so quickly.
If I was honest, I feared the speed and strength in which they were appearing. Ever since I’d met the stranger, the faint tingle of lifeforce—that’d been barely noticeable when I first ate meat—was swiftly becoming an extra sense.
“Is it breathing?” The stranger moved to my side, his arms crossed as he towered above me. He didn’t bow to touch it. He merely looked at me with affection that seemed to glow stronger every moment we spent together. “It’s afraid, but it just doesn’t understand,” he murmured.
I swiped away my tears. “You can sense its fear too?”
He shrugged. “I think all animals can sense what another is feeling.” Uncrossing his arms, he sank his fingers into the closest wolf’s fur. “It’s whether or not we listen that causes problems. Sensing the wolves’ emotions is how I communicate with my pack. They cannot speak like mortals do, but they do speak. Very loudly if you are fluent in their tongue.”
I tried to hide my awe that this man who seemed so uncouth and wild had such deep respect for the world and its creatures. “I know exactly what you mean.” Lowering my voice to a whisper, I dared ask, “Do you feel anything else? Do you see what they do? Do you sometimes feel as if you’ve slipped into their skin, even for a single heartbeat?”
