Wolf Bride

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[[The wedding bells are ringing.]]

My steps are heavy as they lead me towards the river that separates my home from the Forest Kingdom. My dress is white, made of expensive materials. Silk, embroideries, pearls, gold yarn. Its long hem stains in grass and soil as I walk forward. My people, who carry the torches and toll the bells, remain on this side of the river as I [[step on the bridge, ready to cross it forever]].

Outside the river are the Lands of Night and Forest. It is a poetic, avoidant term for the untamed wilderness full of shadows and beasts. The river draws an open-ended circle on the map, separating and protecting humanity from all kinds of nightmares awaiting outside. I feel their eyes on me as I [[take my first step on the bridge.]]

They are watching me from everywhere as I walk. From the foliage of the ancient trees, from the riverbed across. From the reeds that sway in the night wind. From beneath the [[large gate]] on the other side.

The wind is whipping the dress against my legs. Each step is a step closer to the impending doom. I am a sacrifice. A proverbial lamb thrown to literal wolves. [[A Wolf Bride.]]

//CHARACTER CREATION HERE Your hair is <<cycle "_hair" autoselect>> <<option red>> <<option black>> <<option golden>> <<option silver>> <<option white>> <</cycle>> and <<cycle "_hairlength" autoselect>> <<option long>> <<option mid-length>> <<option short>> <</cycle>>. Your skin is <<cycle "_skin" autoselect>> <<option pale>> <<option tanned>> <<option dark>> <</cycle>>, and your eyes are <<cycle "_eyes" autoselect>> <<option green>> <<option blue>> <<option brown>> <<option black>> <<option copper>> <</cycle>>. Your face is <<cycle "_face" autoselect>> <<option tired>> <<option worried>> <<option emotionless>> <</cycle>> and <<cycle "_weight" autoselect>> <<option thin>> <<option round>> <<option angular>> <</cycle>>. As for your name, you go by <<textbox "$name" "" "nextpassage">>

This list features both general content markers, as well as route-specific content markers. GENERAL CONTENT MARKERS Sexual content Violent content Implications of trauma, sexual abuse and torture Blood Character death ROUTE-SPECIFIC CONTENT MARKERS SPRING Descriptions of sexual abuse and trauma SUMMER and WINTER Torture and trauma AUTUMN History of domestic abuse, depression and suicidal thoughts Back to [[Starting the Story->nextpassage]]

[[I pause before the last step between the bridge and the gate.]] <<set $winter to 0>> <<set $autumn to 0>> <<set $summer to 0>> <<set $spring to 0>>

[[Menu]] "Test a thing here" Test Thing

"A proverbial lamb offered to literal wolves."

Up until now, my world has been divided in two. There is the safe world within the Round River. The river is like the symbol of infinity, a snake nearly catching its own tail. It encloses the small nation of humans neatly within its borders. Old lore knows to tell that the water of Round River is holy, and that is what keeps us safe from the Lands of Night and Forest. No werewolf nor vampire can cross the river, not even over the bridge. After I step off from the bridge, I am their prey. I swallow. [[And I step forward.]]

This game contains themes, including but not limited to erotic content as well as violence, which some people might find upsetting or triggering. By starting the game you accept the story as it is. [[View the full list of content warnings, content markers and trigger warnings.]] [[I'm fine with the content this story has. Begin the game.]]

I keep walking, because if I stop, I will not be able to walk on. I do not have to turn back to know people have now gathered on the bridge with their torches. The wedding bells toll, but otherwise it is quiet. No tears, no sounds of mourning to send me off. If I would turn back and run, they would no longer let me back on the bridge. The only available way [[is forward]].

I let the shadows of the trees swallow me and focus on the simple things. To keep my back straight, to keep my feet moving. Here the wind settles, as if blocked by the trees and undergrowth. I can still feel the eyes on me. I wonder when they will pounce. I wonder if drowning myself would have been less painful than being torn apart. It is useless to think about it at this point, I remind myself: my people would have pulled me up, emptied my lungs of water, and sent me off again. They need the sacrifice to be received, or the anger of the Forest will not settle. [[What did my father even do to make them so angry?]]

I walk for [[what feels like hours.]]

My feet start aching, then they turn numb. Finally I cannot take it anymore and stop, sit down. When I look around, the forest looks just as inpenetrable in every direction. Another glance around, and I am no longer certain where exactly I came from. The shadows move and shift like living creatures. I settle into the stillness. [[Then I start hearing them.]]

I hear the distant howling, just barely louder than the nightbirds singing in the trees surrounding me. As it draws closer, the wind seems to go completely still, as if it, too, was afraid of the death trotting closer. Two voices; one higher, another bright like brass. The higher one draws closer and closer. By the time I can hear it clearly not ten meters away from me, [[all the birds have gone quiet.]]

So this is death, I think to myself as a silver grey wolf emerges from the shadows, eyes reflecting green as they meet the moonlight. ... by all gods, it is huge. I have never seen a canine of that size. Its fangs must be the size of my palm, and the fur coat looks so thick i could drown my hand in it. There is no mistaking it for a dog. This is a wolf, and I have never thought I would see one this close. This is death, and I... [[Am ready.]] [[Don't want to die.]]

I draw a deep, shaky breath. <<set $winter to $winter-1>> It does not matter anymore, does it? <<set $summer to $summer-1>> I am dressed for the occasion, forever beautiful, forever young. Whatever it is the wolves want me for - whatever the sin my father committed - I am ready. <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> My eyes stay on the wolf as it approaches me under the trees. Its eyes search me, deep, intelligent. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> Despite thinking I am ready to face it, my body starts to shiver when the [[wolf stops in front of me.]]

I grit my teeth and stand back up. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> It does not make any sense for me to die because of someone else's sins. <<set $winter to $winter+1>> I do not have anything much to defend myself with, but I pull out one of my shoes and hold the heel high. With my other hand I tear the tiara from my hair, holding it like a sickle. <<set $autumn to $autumn-1>> My eyes stay on the wolf as it approaches me under the trees. Its eyes search me, deep, intelligent. <<set $spring to $spring-1>> If it wants me dead, I will hurt it back. That is what I keep telling myself when the [[wolf stops in front of me.]]

For a while we eye each other in silence. Then it blinks once, slowly, and withdraws back to the woods. I watch it take few trotting steps away, then stop and turn to look at me over its shoulder. I become aware of how the whole forest seems to be looking at me - yet none of the stares feel hostile anymore, only curious. I take one tentative step towards the wolf, then another. The wolf blinks again, as if in approval, and continues into the woods. [[I follow it into the shadows.]]

We continue like this for many more hours. The wolf trots a short distance, then stops to wait for me. I try my best to keep up despite my aching feet and draining strength. When I am sure I cannot take another step, the wolf suddenly disappears between two large oak trees, and after following it I arrive at a clearing - no. A small lake. Before me opens a field of flowers stretching in the early rays of dawn. The sky above us stretches now more lilac than black, and the reeds at the lake banks sway gently in the wind. There seems to be some sort of small gazebo built to the opposite side of the lake, but that is not what catches my eye. Across the lake, standing on a hill rising behind it, surrounded by the ancient trees and untouched wilderness, I can see the silhouette of a mansion [[built from black and white wood]].

The wolf is waiting for me in the middle of the flowers, and when I look at it in confusion, it wags its tail at me like a dog. Perhaps I am already dead, and this is a bizarre dream. But if there is any chance following the wolf will allow me to sit down and rest my aching feet, I will take it. I press my teeth against each other just to be able to continue moving. Going around the lake would take another half an hour, at least. The soil of the flower field is soft as if it had recently rained, and I have to abandon my shoes. I swear the damn wolf seems [[amused]] by my plight.

An hour passes until we reach the other side of the lake. By then my feet simply refuse to take another step, and I sit down on soft, green moss that seems to be a replacement for a lawn in the yard of the mansion. The hill is not far, and now that I can take a closer look at it, I can see a path with stairs leading from the lake and gazebo to the decorative front door. Stairs. The wolf trots forward happily, but stops and turns when it notices I am not following. [["I cannot walk any longer."]] [["I just need five minutes. Or... maybe fifteen."]]

My voice cracks pathetically at the words. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> The wolf tilts its head at me and walks back to where I am sitting. Again I brace myself for the threat of teeth, the violence of death. Because nature is not kind, and out here only the laws of nature matter. As much I have been told, as much I have read from the books. There is no teeth nor violence. Instead the wolf starts shifting before my eyes. [[I blink.]]

More like fifty. Or five hours. But I have to try. <<set $winter to $winter+1>> The wolf tilts its head at me and walks back to where I am sitting. Again I brace myself for the threat of teeth, the violence of death. Because nature is not kind, and out here only the laws of nature matter. As much I have been told, as much I have read from the books. There is no teeth nor violence. Instead the wolf starts shifting before my eyes. [[I blink.]]

It is an unsettling sight, but I cannot quite draw my eyes from it either. The tail shrinks, the hind legs grow taller, the proportions change. Silver fur fades, and shifts into simple clothes woven in identical grey: a simple tunic and trousers. He is not much taller than I am, and looks quite young. Perhaps my age. The only detail contradicting this assumption are the silver grey streaks in his otherwise golden hair, tousled by the wind and swept back. His eyes are the same shade of green as the wolf had. "I'm afraid we were already expected to show up an hour ago." His voice is kind, nearly androgynous in colour, and has the similar warm tone as [[the wolf wagging its tail at me.]]

I cannot find my words, but this time it is purely out of dread. A regular wolf with odd habits would have been bad enough, but a werewolf means I am certainly in danger. A primal fear grips my body as it starts shaking violently all over. "So we cannot have that." The man does not seem to care about my plight. He straightens and leans over. Only after he slips his hand under my legs, I realise he is attempting to lift me. [[I let him carry me]] [[I fight back!]]

Earlier it felt like giving up and stopping was still a choice. Now it feels like I could not force my legs to move even if I wanted to. <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> He scoops me up with a relative ease - he is clearly stronger than he looks, because he makes no sounds of effort, nor do his steps waver as he starts to carry me towards the path, then up the stairs. For the first hundred steps or so my heart beats so fast I worry I will die right there and then. After that, when no display of violence is enacted, it finally starts to slow down. In the place of anxiety I feel just a tall shadow of tiredness. My shaking, on the other hand, does not cease even by the time he reaches the top of the [[stairs]].

Somehow life surges through my veins like fire. It was one thing to fear being eaten; it is a completely another fear to think what this werewolf will do to me if I let him touch me. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> One quick swing with my tiara makes him drop my legs with a yelp. He leaps back and bares his teeth in a gesture that twists his expression, making him look every bit the beast I know he is. I see his sharp canines revealed all the way to gums, his eyes narrowing as he snarls. For a moment we scowl at each other, his expression slowly twitching and settling to a more neutral - more human - one. "None of that, now," he finally says and exhales sharply and briefly through his nose, like a huff. "We are late. Either I carry you, or you will walk by yourself to the top of the stairs. Which one will it be?" I look at the stairs. My feet immediately start hurting more. When I toss the tiara to the ground, the man approaches me again. Without another word he scoops me effortlessly in his arms and carries me first to the path, then up the [[stairs]].

"My name is Calev." I take in the words as he puts me down at the top of the stairs. Thankfully I remain upright, my feet having used the brief respite from carrying efficiently. Only after I can be certain I will not fall over I turn to arch my brows quizzically at the man. "My name." The man pats his chest and smiles expectantly at me. "Calev." "$name," I mutter reluctantly. Only after a second I regret my taciturn introduction; perhaps giving my name will make them see me more as a person instead of a walking morsel of food? "Really?" Calev's eyebrows climb higher. "Sounds like a made-up name." "It is not," I insist and turn around to take a look at the mansion yard. [[It is beautiful.]]

Large patches of wildflowers have been left in places, and all manners of pollinators buzz around now that the sun has risen high enough to offer its meager spring warmth. The ones in bloom are the early, small-flowered ones, but I can also see some flowerbeds with larger garden flowers. Those will bloom later, with more extravagant flowers and scents; only the shape of their leaves and the size of them reveals them to me. The windows of the mansion have white, decorative frames. One of them, a round one above the high entrance, has a stained glass painting of the phases of the moon. A gentle pat between my shoulder blades startles me from my observations. "We should go," Calev says and starts guiding me inside, "[[They are waiting.]]"

I want to ask who //they// are, but remain silent. There is a high chance I will find out soon enough. The scent of cedar welcomes us both as we enter the foyer, then the hallway. Calev walks by my side towards a doorway in the wall to the left. I can hear the sounds of a conversation from there - two voices. "I'm back," Calev greets as he pushes me to the room in front of him, "and I brought [[our guest]] with me."

The room I have entered seems to be a dining hall. A long, dark wooden table stretches in the middle of it, there are seats for around eight people, perhaps ten. Another, smaller table near the wall seems to be for serving assistance, now only housing empty dishes from breakfast. Two men are sitting on one side of the table. Both turn to look at us when Calev announces our arrival. I swallow. The man sitting on the right has a fiery red mane of hair and striking, angry blue eyes. From the way he is looking at me I understand he does not like me - that he probably does not like anyone on the first meeting, and does not hesitate to make this known. Does not //need// to hesitate, I correct myself when he shifts and I see muscles moving underneath the long sleeve of his shirt. The idle glance steals my attention to his hands, one tanned and one- [[-mechanical.]]

I cannot help it. I stare. Copper-coloured joints are twined together with splints of wood and intricate mechanisms. When he drums the fingers impatiently against the table surface, the movements are accurate, as if it really was his hand. The wrist that disappears under the sleeve seems to be similarly artificial. "It is rude to stare," the other man comments and my attention immediately shifts to him. He is probably a bit younger than I am, his black hair is neatly bound, and the eyes that regard me are dark and languid. If the redhead was largely defined by how off-putting his expression was, this man I can only describe as a painter or a poet having a sensual day. "And," the man continues in the same soft-spoken manner, his dark eyes now turning slowly towards Calev, "[[you are late.]]"

"It's hardly my fault," Calev says and his tone slips into a whiny note. "They sent her here on ridiculous shoes. Fabric and pearls. Can you imagine how long it took for her to walk here?" "I am surprised she made it at all," the redhead scoffs. Calev takes a seat across the table from them. I do not follow, and none of them invite me to join them. I am uncertain of what the etiquette here is. "Where is Ze'ev?" Calev turns his attention to the soft-spoken man, who busies himself with the teapot on the table and pours tea in three cups. "Zevik grew bored of waiting," the redhead states. From the tone he uses, I deduce Zevik is a nickname. "He said he doesn't care that much about what we do [[with the girl]]."

His last words draw me violently back to the reality. After having seen Calev shift, I know what to look for, and turn to look at the two other men as their conversation turns to hum in my ears. The sharp canines revealed in the mouths of both as they all laugh at some joke I did not hear. The curved claws in place of nails when the soft-spoken man lifts a teacup to his lips. The low-set ears, covered by soft fur. I am not in the presence of one werewolf, but three. And Ze'ev, or Zevik, must be the fourth. My shaking had stopped earlier, but [[now it returns with vengeance]].

I consider running for a whole half second before giving up on the idea. My feet can carry me no further than the nearest chair. There are three of them. And I am theirs, by right. I am their sacrifice. The thought brings bile to my throat. The soft-spoken man is the first to notice my discomfort. He looks at me, blinks, then eyes me from head to toes and stands up. "If it pleases you, you are welcome to sit down with us," he offers and pulls out a chair next to him. "We have tea, and food can be arranged, if you are hungry." I can only stare at him weakly. [[What?]]

The man waits patiently. I stare. Calev glances at us. "He's Shai," he then speaks up and gestures to the soft-spoken man, who bows his head at me. "That's Azar." The redhead just glances at me with visible lack of interest when he is introduced. I nod weakly, again not knowing what else to do. "And she," Calev continues and points at me, "is $name." "I thought we were going to address her as The Sacrifice until we had decided what to do with her?" Azar asks. There is a short, stunned silence, at the end of with all three of them start guffawing with laughter and I have never felt less like laughing [[in my whole life]].

While they are laughing I make my way to the chair pulled out and sit down. Even if it was a joke, I am too tired to not take the opportunity to rest my feet when presented. That, and now that I was not immediately killed, my mind is being occupied by precarious thoughts of hope and survival. That maybe if I can rest my feet for another five minutes, I could outrun three fully grown werewolves. ... operative key word being "maybe". Shai seems satisfied as I sit down and fetches a fourth clean cup from the side table. There is one empty, similar cup in the pile of dirty dishes - probably belongs to "Zevik". "So," Calev starts once all of us are sat back down and have tea in front of us. "Ze'ev said he won't be joining us, then." Suddenly he seems a lot more serious than he was outside. "Let's talk about [[what to do with you]]."

The atmosphere around the table changes. Smiles fade, even Shai's eyes grow a bit more stern. I shift awkwardly. "This seems awful lot of trouble to go through just so you could eat me," I finally manage, not to anyone in particular. "See?" Azar turns to Calev and Shai. "She's already prepared herself to be eaten. I vote we do just that." "That will not solve the issue at hand," Shai notes and frowns a bit - the first visible sign of any sort of dissatisfaction on his beautiful face. "Ze'ev agreed with me on this." "Well, Zevik is not here," Azar says, the words growling a bit. "So he gave up his right to have an opinion." "I thought you said he didn't have one," Calev observes idly, lazily. [[As if this did not concern him.]]

"Uhm," I start, not really expecting to have a right to speak up. To my surprise, all three of them fall silent and turn to me as soon as I open my mouth. As if my word did somehow count - and not by a small measure. Under their gaze, I start feeling a bit nervous and ask the first question that comes to my mind. [["What exactly is the problem you are trying to solve?"]] [["If you aren't eating me, what am I doing here?"]] [["Do I... actually get a say in this?"]]

Azar and Calev remain quiet and avert their eyes from me. Shai, on the other hand, looks pleased by my question. <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> "Were you told [[why]] you were brought here?" He asks.

Perhaps it comes out a bit bolder and sharper than I admitted, but for the first time I can see a hint of something like approval in Azar's blue eyes. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> "Were you told [[why]] you were brought here?" He asks.

Shai and Azar both look first stunned, then confused. As if I had said something so stupid, or perhaps so ignorant, they did not know how to answer. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> "Were you told [[why]] you were brought here?" Calev finally is the one to ask.

"No," I say and frown, "... yes? My father did something to upset you. I am here as a sacrifice, as his oldest daughter." Again, all three of them listen to me intently as I speak, then at each other. As if trying to decide where to begin. Azar is finally the one to turn to me, his eyes now stormy. "Your father shot and killed the matriarch of our pack," he growls. The sound sends shivers down my spine. "Our leading queen for a decade now. Our Lady of Forests and Moon." Through my fear it takes several heartbeats for me to properly understand the emotion behind the words. Even when it comes out loud and angry, through growls and snarls, the emotion flickering in the blue is not anger. [[It is grief.]]

I do not care to look away from Azar, but from the corner of my eyes I see Calev's expression having grown distant and sad, and Shai's dark eyes having suddenly gone so dark I expect they might soon turn to ink and pour on his cheeks. But his voice is perfectly calm as he speaks. "Wolves have no courts or kings," he says and turns to me. "But we do have laws." "One of our most important laws is that the pack must always be ruled by a queen. We four are merely representatives of the seasons." Calev does not look at me, just stirs his tea. "So with the loss of our Matriarch, we find ourselves at a loss with a lot of other things, too." The atmosphere is heavy as I try to understand the situation. In a way it is unsettling to hear that the option to eat me is still on the table. In another way it is relieving to hear that it is just one option. "And you cannot just [[pick a new one]]?" I ask cautiously.

"There are currently no suitable candidates volunteering," Calev sighs and rubs his eyes. "The position is not easy, it comes with a lot of danger. In these uncertain times, many families would prefer not to make their daughters into targets." I decide to ask later about //these uncertain times// and, for now, nod. Silence follows the words. "Still, we need a new queen in just a week," Shai points out, stirring his tea and turning to address Calev and Azar. "Calev will receive the crown from Ze'ev during the Spring Equinox. It would be unprecedented to do so without having chosen a new Lady." "Would you like to turn into a suitable candidate, then?" Calev asks, a growl hiding deep underneath his tone. "You are at least pretty enough to pass for one." "Sadly, I will have to be present as myself, as the representative of the autumn. As you well know." Shai's expression and tone both remain unchanged. "Can't Selene do it?" Azar groans. "No," Calev and Shai both reply sharply, after which Shai continues: "Selene is a //flower//, she cannot do it. The new queen will have to be either a human, or a werewolf." My eyes flit from one to another as I desperately try to keep up with the conversation. The only part I can understand is the Spring Equinox, which I know to be [[one week from now]].

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Azar growls. It seems like now they have all fully forgotten my presence. Well, all except Shai. "I actually have a proposal," he says and sips the remains of his tea. Then he nods towards me. "We will have $name as our Lady of the Forests and Moon." [[What.]] [[What.]] [[Whaaaat.->What.]]

Their attention returns to me with force. Azar seems to be a mere inch away from tearing my arms off. Calev seems surprised and is now eyeing me as if considering the option presented to him. "We have our hands full with the Lands of Night, the upcoming Equinox, and the new division of duties after our matriarch passed." Shai explains his point with the clarity of someone who has given it thorough consideration. "The position is dangerous, so no-one else would accept it with only one week of warning time. This way we can-" "You //must// be joking." Azar stands up so abruptly his chair falls to the door with a loud sound. "Zevik would never-" "He knows my stance," Shai interjects with a surprising sharpness that cuts through Azar's words. He is not loud like Azar is, but his voice is clear like brass. His dark eyes meet Azar's blue ones, darkness clashing with the sea. And the darkness wins. "And he still said [[he will respect our decision]]."

Shai's voice and gaze are unyielding. He must be half the size of Azar - and even so, it is Azar who averts his furious gaze to Calev. "You cannot be okay with this." The voice is a demand, but Calev grimaces in a way that seems to anticipate a clash. "I mean," Calev starts, hesitant. "Shai has a point, doesn't he? We need someone there anyway, and..." "You cannot be okay with this." Azar's eyes narrow. Calev frowns, and his teeth flash. "I think it's not the worst option we have," he states with a note of finality. Azar turns to me. I am very happy looks cannot kill. Then he [[storms out.]]

"He is always so dramatic, is he not," Shai sighs heavily and brings two fingers to rub out the line that was forming between his eyebrows. "To say the least." Calev's lips twitch into an amused smile. Then he turns to me. "So, what do you think, $name?" "Obviously we will not do this, if you do not want it," Shai confirms and turns to me as well. "You will have the final say, as we are males." I stare at him blankly. "What... does that have to do with it?" I hazard a question. Shai blinks slowly, as if not understanding my question. Then the realization dawns. "All wolves are naturally submissive to women", he says. "Your cycles are the same as the phases of the moon. [[Nothing is as sacred to us.]]"

"Are you - serious?" It sounds more than just a little unbelievable. I look from Calev to Shai, and both of them nod. "If you would be willing, I will vouch for you," Shai says. "Calev?" "Me too," Calev sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "I have to take the crown in one week's time, not having a queen to share it with would be just a pain in the ass. If you will say yes, I'll vouch for you." So two out of four. "Azar probably won't," I point out. "But Ze'ev will," Shai says confidently. "Or, rather, he will not have an opinion. So it will be us against him." "Which means," Calev confirms what I already suspected, "That he will have to [[accept it]]."

I think about my options for a whole ten seconds. To be eaten, or to accept a dangerous position in a world I know nothing of, where I might live another day? Even if I were to die tomorrow to some unknown danger, it would still mean one more day alive. One more sunset I could see, one more evening watching the wind in the trees. When put like that, it is not a difficult choice. [["I accept."]]

//An excerpt from The Book of Moon: The moon governs the three most sacred entities; wolves, oceans, and women. These are all bound to each other, and must always stand by each other in reverence. Three books have been written that are sacred to every werewolf: The Book of Moon, The Book of Sea, and The Book of Wolves. The original, hand-written versions are kept by the Season of Autumn, currently under the Jurisdiction of Shai, The Outsider.// This concludes the First Chapter. [[Proceed to the Second Chapter.]]

By the end of the conversation I am still not dead. Quite the contrary; I have been served tea, warm stew, and after I stifled the first yawn, Calev informed me I would get a room in the mansion. So [[here I am.]]

I was too tired to pay attention to where we were going, but stairs were involved. Two flights, I think, which would put my room to the third and highest floor, to the east wing - another tradition, according to Calev, that the queen would get the room where she can watch the sunrise. The queen. There was so much to unpack and my feet were aching so much I simply slumped down on the bed once Calev let me in. “I will send someone in soon to help you with your clothes,” he informed me before he [[left me to my thoughts]].

And here I am, the pain of my aching feet finally starting to wane again. They really did not appreciate that last flight of stairs. The bed is comfortable, and the room is surprisingly nice. Unlike the external walls and the ones of the corridor, the walls of my room have a warm hue and carry the same scent of cedar as I sensed downstairs. There is a small glass door on the wall and behind it, through white curtains, I can see the silhouette of a balcony. Another door leads to what I suppose is a private bathroom, and I suspect the wardrobe next to the vanity table could fit as many clothes as I have owned during my entire life. I wonder if all the rooms in here look like this. I did not expect them to be so… [[furnished.]]

In my imagination - and all the stories I have ever read - werewolves are mangy, snarling beasts only capable of bloodshed. They run in the woods and bathe in rivers, and sleep in caves. Not in soft beds like this, with clean linen sheets and embroidered pillowcases. The bed stands opposite from a large window facing east, and in front of it there is a large wooden table with drawers. I am highly curious about the contents, but right now the thought of walking across the room is too much for me. There is a [[knock on the door.]]

“Come in,” I call out and force myself to sit up. Going all the way to the door to open it would have been more polite, but in the absence of the strength to do so… this will have to do. The door opens, and in walks… Nothing more or less than the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my [[entire life]].

Her silky peach hair falls to her shoulders, framing her glowing face in perfect harmony. I have never seen anyone with such long, thick eyelashes. They look as painted as her jade green eyes do. She is wearing a simple cream gown and is barefoot - which seems to be the local fashion, as I do not remember any of the wolves I saw earlier wearing shoes either. At least I fit right in. “You are $name.” Her soft, rosy lips curve in a delighted smile as she approaches me. “They said I could come and meet you now.” I draw a deep breath in through the nose. The scents she brings in are impossible - a rose garden, a greenhouse, a meadow after rain. “Yes,” I reply, belatedly, “and, um, [[who…]]?”

Her smile widens and turns even warmer at my hesitation. “My name is Selene,” she introduces herself and extends a hand towards me. “I will be attending to you from this day on. If there is anything you need or want to know, you can ask me.” Selene. My mind provides context from earlier for the name. I shake her hand. //She is a flower.// I blink and stare at the very human-looking woman in front of me. [[A flower?]]

Selene lets me stare at her for quite a long time, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about the way I just gawk at her. She is so beautiful she must get that all the time. As much is true, but the longer I stare at her, the more I start to see little things that are simply off. Like how the hand I finally take is rougher than I expected, how the fingers are just a little bit too long. How all her limbs are just a little bit too long. How her skin really does seem to have some sort of inner glow. “You are staring.” Her smile does not fade when she finally breaks the silence and turns me [[scarlet]] with the words.

“Sorry,” I immediately say and let go of her hand. “I have never met - seen anything like you before.” “I get that a lot.” Her smile gains a slightly sad colour. It makes me immediately regret my choice of words. I do not know what I said to make her so sad, but somehow - someone like her should not be sad, ever. Should I say “someone” or “something”? If she is a flower, the latter would probably be more accurate, but I find it difficult to refer to her as an object. “Calev said you would help me with my clothes,” I say to change the topic and give her a wary smile of my own. “As much as I would want to say I got it…” There are layers and layers of the wedding dress on me, most by now stained by either grass or soil. In my current shape it sounds more than an ordeal to undress [[myself]].

“I want to help.” Her smile returns, warm and glowing, and I feel my shoulders relaxing in relief. She moves behind me and starts to unravel, unbutton, loosen and ease off clothes from me. “It is probably very different here than what you are used to,” she muses as she works. I make an acknowledging sound - she could not be more right. [[“If you have any questions, I would be more than happy to answer them.”]]

I consider this as I stand up and she helps me finish undressing. My exhaustion is at the point where I am no longer overly concerned about chastity, and I do still have my underwear. Still, since [[she]] is offering to educate me…

I meet her eyes. They are waiting for my questions. <<if visited("I want to ask about the wolves.")>> [[I want to ask about the wolves.->anything about them.]] <<else>> [[I want to ask about the wolves.->I want to ask about the wolves.]] <</if>> [[I want to ask about her.]] [[I want to ask about the mansion.]] [[I want to go to sleep.]]

“So this mansion is really… owned by werewolves?” I ask. “Yes,” Selene’s voice is soft as she moves on to brush my hair, having procured a hairbrush from the vanity. “The Land of Forest is home to a lot of werewolves, all governed by the pack that resides in the Moon Mansion. It consists of our Queen, the Seasons, and their trusted ones.” Right. The queen part - I make a mental note to ask about that, too. “The Queen is the supreme leader of The Land of Forest, assisted by the Seasons,” Selene continues. “She sits on her throne, and one of our four Seasons sits as her King on the corresponding time of the year.” “So the queen stays in power, and the kings play musical chairs?” It is a flippant way of putting it, but she does not seem to mind. “[[That is the way it has always been.]]”

“They said you are a flower,” I start as I consider how to best approach the subject. “That is correct.” Selene nods with a smile. “To be specific, I am //ipomoea alba//.” White morning glory, I remember from one of the botanist books I have been reading back at home. Also known as the moonvine - or the moonflower. “But at the same time you are… a person?” I tread more cautiously now, not knowing if it is offensive to call a flower a person or the other way around. At least I avoided saying //not human//. I feel that here, “not human” is not the insult it would be at home. “That is also correct.” [[Selene smiles warmly at me, as if I said something praiseworthy.]]

“What exactly is this place?” I gesture around us to the room, trying to encompass the whole house, the yard and the buildings there into the movement. “I had thought wolves would live more, like…” I falter upon realising how presumptuous I am about to sound. That wolves live in caves? That all of them are illiterate? Selene clearly holds great fondness for this place and the pack that lives here. Even if it is just for her sake, I do not want to say everything that comes to my mind from the old fairytale books. “The mansion is beautiful,” [[I say, instead.]]

When I stifle my third yawn, Selene’s smile turns more empathetic. “Please get some rest,” she tells me as she goes to pull the curtains in front of the windows, blocking out the rays of the rising sun. Right - it is only morning. But I have been running through the night, and I am so, [[so tired]].

“So if I became the queen… would that not mean I would have the power of decision in my hands?” I ask. “Technically, yes. In practice, you cannot be a queen in your full power until you have reigned for one whole year: sided with every season, so that you learn how you work together. They would observe you, too, to make sure you have the best interest of the Land in mind.” Selene pauses to spend a moment with a particularly stubborn tangle. Her fingers are gentle, she clearly is trying to avoid pulling my hair. “So for the first year, you would be more of a queen in trial, a representative,” she continues. “Your voice will be heard, and you will have power, but the word of the king is equal to yours.” Her smile turns a bit more curious. “Or I should say - will be, once the [[Equinox comes]].”

“It is the spring Equinox, so the one assuming the lead will be… Calev?” I ask. Selene nods. “Ze’ev is currently the ruling king, and in one week’s time, he will give the crown to Calev,” she confirms. Her voice gains a sad tone again. “Ze’ev is taking the queen’s death heavily. It happened during his reign, so he bears the full responsibility of it.” //Do whatever you want with her.// So Ze’ev is winter’s representative. Calev spring’s… I am going to go take a wild guess and assume Azar represents summer, leaving Shai for autumn. Other than my first impressions of them, I do not know [[anything about them.]]

<<if visited("a particular curiosity for humans")>> She smiles and tilts her head. "Not much else than I already told you," she says. Maybe [[she]] can tell me something else. <<else>> If Calev is who I will spend most of my time with after this first week, better see what I can find out about him. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> “Let me see…” Selene’s voice turns thoughtful and distant as she takes the hairbrush back to the vanity. Then she goes to the wardrobe and procures for me a beautiful, soft nightgown, dark blue and with phases of the moon embroidered on the hem as a repeating pattern. “Out of all the seasons, Calev is the most lively and social,” she tells me as she slips the nightgown over my head and has me sit down. My muscles all sigh a breath of relief. “He might be the easiest person of all of them to get along with, especially for you.” “How do you mean?” Selene tilts her head at my question. “You are a human, and he holds [[a particular curiosity for humans]].” <</if>>

“I am going to assume particular curiosity in this context does not mean curiosity towards how I taste,” I suggest. Selene laughs. It is a wonderful laugh, like someone had swiped a gentle hand across wind chimes. “Not in the way you are currently thinking of.” Her eyes narrow in a smile that leaves me all the more curious, but the expression fades back into her earlier warmth as she continues. “I cannot tell you things he wants to keep private, but he has held his position less time than anyone else in the Kingdom. He has only represented spring for two years, so there is a lot he does not know yet, either.” I guess that can be both a good and a bad thing. I will not be judged so harshly for not knowing things - but I will have to go to others for advice if there is something he cannot handle. And there was something else they said, something that stuck to me. “Is he, too, um… [[submissive to me]]?”

Selene’s smile does not fade, but her head tilts to an angle and her eyes gain a bit of a clouded look. As if she was thinking of something - or perhaps remembering something. “In a manner of speaking,” she responds. “Did your people use guardian dogs for your sheep and cattle?” I nod. Wolves were not the only threat they kept at bay; wolverines, foxes, lynxes, even other humans. And, of course, werewolves and vampires. A good guardian dog was worth its weight of gold. “Then I would say… Calev is submissive, yes.” Selene pats my hand. “Submissive like a guardian dog is submissive to the sheep it [[kills for]].”

I nod. Perhaps that is enough of Calev, for now. I turn back to Selene, and [[she]] smiles at me.

[[“What can you tell me about Calev?”]] [[“What can you tell me about Azar?”]] [[“What can you tell me about Shai?”]] [[“What can you tell me about Ze’ev?”]]

<<if visited("feud with each other")>> She smiles and tilts her head. "Not much else than I already told you," she says. Maybe [[she]] can tell me something else. <<else>> <<set $summer to $summer+1>> Azar certainly left an impression. I am not quite sure whether or not I like him or hate him yet, but it does seem it is in my best interests to at least get along with him. “Azar.” Selene repeats the name thoughtfully. Her smile becomes more curious. Perhaps slightly amused. “Azar commands all the military in the Forest Kingdom. All of them are powerful, but in a fight or battle, Azar is the most feared. Every vampire at the northern war front knows his name, and they all speak it with fear.” Her voice is reverent. Vampires, of course. I live on the eastern side of the human lands, closer to the werewolf territories - but I have heard in the west vampires are a greater problem. It would make sense they would also [[feud with each other]]. <</if>>

<<if visited("he is in charge")>> She smiles and tilts her head. "Not much else than I already told you," she says. Maybe [[she]] can tell me something else. <<else>> <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> Out of all four of them, Shai has by far been the nicest to me. It is just difficult to try to tell whether that is all an act when his behaviour is so formal. “Ah. Shai.” Selene’s expression gains a new colour. Sadness… or perhaps empathy? It feeds into my curiosity. “This may come as a surprise to you, but he divides opinions a lot around here. He oversees the libraries, and is considered the keeper of arts and science here. Out of the four seasons, he is the youngest.” I am a bit surprised they have things like arts and science. Or libraries. One would think beasts are illiterate. Maybe some of them are. “Why does he divide opinions?” I ask. “Arts and science - are those not good things?” “They are, but…” Selene smiles, as if in an apologising manner. “Shai is… not very military-oriented, and so Forest Kingdom always tends to get pushed around a bit whenever [[he is in charge]].” <</if>>

<<if visited("am hoping to see it again")>> She smiles and tilts her head. "Not much else than I already told you," she says. Maybe [[she]] can tell me something else. <<else>> All I really know about the werewolf representing the season of winter is his name, his loyalty to the previous matriarch, and his obvious disinterest in me. <<set $winter to $winter+1>> “Ze’ev is the oldest,” Selene begins. “He represents the season of winter, which means he is still the ruling king for another week or so. It has been some weeks since he has been back to the Moon Mansion, but he should return by the Equinox.” She does not say it out loud, but I gather he has probably been away ever since the former queen was killed. I consider this as she collects my bridal gown from the floor and takes it next to the door - hopefully to be washed. Not that I particularly [[am hoping to see it again]]. <</if>>

“He seems a bit…” I lick my lips as I try to think of a suitable, descriptive but not too offensive description. “... hard to impress.” “Oh, yes.” Selene laughs. “Not many can say they are close to him, and even fewer can say they would have impressed him. But all he does, he does to keep us safe. From vampires. From… humans.” Her tone falters a bit at the last admission, and she glances at me as if worried she accidentally offended me. I smile back as reassuringly as I can. Even when I think objectively everyone in here is more terrifying than I am, more dangerous, I am only here because my father killed a wolf. A leading female, too. Perhaps to them, I am terrifying. I want to ask about something lighter, to drive away that shadow of fear in Selene’s expression. “They did say all wolves are submissive to females, but - I am going to assume that [[does not include Azar]]?”

“Hmm…” Selene tilts her head in thought. “Perhaps it is different for humans, but he is a leader. Not the kind who barks orders from above, but the kind who leads from the front and eats last.” “Really?” I frown and cannot quite keep the disbelief from my voice. To me, he seemed like any run-of-the-mill, self-righteous tyrant. But Selene nods, seemingly in a genuine manner. “He demands,” she admits. “And those who cannot fulfil his demands, he expresses disappointment with, openly. But he also takes care of anyone giving their all. He is the kind to wash the wounds of the injured soldiers himself.” I nod, thinking I perhaps understand. It is not softness, nor weakness… but the image of him kneeling in front of someone who was wounded does [[alter my view of him]].

Perhaps that is enough of Azar, for now. I turn back to Selene, and [[she]] smiles at me.

“Ah, yeah. He really did not seem the type to be very…” I punch the air twice. Selene laughs her soft chime laughter. “He really is not. But Azar says he does not have to be.” A fond smile plays on her lips. “Azar is the most vocal about it. How we need someone like Shai. How Shai has his own way of doing things, just like everyone else has their own.” //Azar// is the one who defends Shai the most? I file the information away, fascinated. One would think someone like him would scoff at anyone who cannot fight. “And he has other merits,” Selene then continues. “Despite being the youngest, he knows all the laws, all the rules. He remembers the names of all our contacts, as well as their likes and dislikes. He is invaluable to others even outside his reign.” I rub the side of my nose with a finger. “And, when they said all wolves are submissive to females… it applies [[to him as well]]?”

Her eyes dim in a sudden, saddened way, as if someone had dimmed the light inside her. Oh no, what did I say? “Yes,” she says before I can begin to think what was it that upset her, “but.” She frowns thoughtfully and brings one hand to rub the other. Like a flower in a storm, I find myself thinking. And wondering what she is thinking, who is at fault for making her so gloomy out of nowhere. “With Shai, I would perhaps not word it like that,” she finally says and lowers her hands, looking at me with solemnity until it melds into her earlier smile. “At least not to his face. The story of why is his to tell, not mine, but if you do that, you might end up hurting him without intending to.” I nod and think about Shai, his soft features, his formal behaviour. Polite enough to count as friendliness, certainly - but perhaps it was also [[a way to keep me at a distance]].

All right, that is enough of Shai for now. I turn back to Selene, and [[she]] smiles at me.

“So what have his duties been in the winter?” I ask when it seems like the conversation might peter out. Perhaps I could gain some insight on what //I// will be eventually asked to do. “Many, especially after the queen died.” Selene folds every clothing item respectfully despite their state. “He keeps our borders safe, he oversees espionage, he consults with the pack. During his reign, he rarely has time for casual conversations.” She smiles at me apologetically as she makes her way back to the bed. “I think I am not the best person to talk about him. Not because I would not want to, but because I do not know much - I think he sees me as his little sister, the kind you have to protect from all and any unpleasant things in the world. My view of him is very superficial.” “Does he let anyone close?” I ask. She nods. “He considers the pack to be his family, but the person closest to him would be a friend from the pack - a [[female wolf by the name of Dina]].”

I nod and imprint the information in my mind. Women are, in my experience, quick to share helpful information - and reliable. Perhaps that is why I feel more at ease around Selene than around the four wolves. Or perhaps Dina will be just as intimidating as the other werewolves, and I will cower in fear at the sight of her. “So is Zevik- sorry, Ze’ev - submissive to Dina as well?” I ask curiously. Selene’s smile turns thoughtful, curious. “I wonder,” she muses. “Not in that manner of the word, at least, but what I am wondering is if Ze’ev ever could submit to anyone.” I leave unasked the question that pops my mind next: the question of whether or not Ze’ev was submissive to the former queen. “Also, be careful with that nickname.” Selene flashes me an amused smile. “Only Azar gets to [[call him Zevik]].”

Noted. That’s probably enough from Ze’ev, for now. I turn back to Selene, and [[she]] smiles at me.

“But how…” I look at her carefully and try to piece together the words //flower// and //person//. In a way I can see it, but it requires me to turn off the logical side of my brain, the kind that is used to flowers not communicating with me this directly, and used to the word “person” meaning certain kinds of things. //Human.// The realisation comes to me so suddenly I blink. For me, “person” is implicitly [[interchangeable]] with “human”.

“There are others like me,” Selene assures and touches my hand with her too-long fingers. Her nails are the right shape and colour, but when they brush briefly the back of my hand, the surface of them feels more like wood. “Some live longer than I do. Others have shorter lives - much shorter. Some like to talk, others like to communicate in other means.” She tilts her head and I see worry appearing in her eyes. “I hope my company is not unpleasant. I can let you sleep whenever you want.” “It’s not unpleasant,” I hurry to assure her, flustered over having caused her distress. “It is - [[this is all very new to me]].”

Thankfully she accepts my explanation and strokes my arm. “I understand,” she tells me gently. “Still. There is absolutely no need to stand on ceremony with me. Whenever you want to go to sleep, let me know and I will leave.” I nod. Her back straightens, and [[she]] looks at me again with a smile.

“It is.” Selene’s smile gains a warmer glow. “The Moon Mansion was built centuries ago, when all the individual wolf packs of the Forest Kingdom decided to unite their forces to keep the vampires and humans away from their lands. What started as an act of survival has become one of the cornerstones of their culture - and history.” She walks around the bed as she speaks and gathers the duvet away from the bed, getting it ready for sleeping in. “The mansion grounds used to be larger,” she continues. “Anyone fleeing the conflict could stay here, as long as they made themselves useful. There were hunting cottages, stables further in the woods. But these days the mansion is only intended for the queen and her pack. Administrative purposes, you could say.” She starts folding the duvet away [[on the back of a chair]].

The queen and her pack. Right now, as things are, it is probably four kings and their pack, but I deem it best not to say it aloud. “I would like to see more of it,” I admit as Selene turns to me. She beams in happiness. “I am sure any of us would be happy to show you around,” [[she]] promises.

I sleep fast and deep, and by the time I start drifting back into the waking world the sun is already low. I recall dreaming about walking in darkness. Just the memory of it is enough to make me groan aloud as I push myself up to sit. At first I do not realize what woke me up. Then I hear [[howling from outside]].

The sound pulls me back to my reality. Yesterday was not just a dream, I am not dead, but neither am I at home. Everything comes back to me in a rush, and I need to take a moment to just stare down at my hands. I hear the howl again. It is different than Calev’s howl: deeper and more melancholic. Maybe. I cannot call myself an expert at differentiating wolf sounds. With slow movements I get up and make my way to the windows. Then I move [[to the balcony]].

I am greeted by the crisp spring air and the rays of the setting sun. The balcony overlooks the backyard, but I can see the lake if I crane my neck far enough past the corner. In the backyard, past what looks to be an orchard, I see a smaller building made of dark wood. It looks old and well-kept, with its own kitchen garden and a well. The architecture reminds me of a temple. Past it stands the treeline, old and ancient, but I see something past the oaks. A bramble? A thicket? And in there, something is moving... There. As soon as my gaze finds the shape moving past it, [[it howls again]].

Calev was big as a wolf, but this white wolf is even bigger - I could easily ride it. It moves quietly, a deadly hunter. I hold my breath as it moves towards the temple, even when there is no way it can hear me from this distance. But perhaps it can still sense me, because it stops before it reaches the building. ITs golden eyes turn to [[stare directly at me]].

I gasp and duck back inside out of instinct. Long moments pass in silence, but there is no more howling, nor does anything leap out of darkness to bite me. When I finally gather my courage and go back to the balcony, [[the white wolf is gone]].

It takes a small eternity for me to calm down enough to go wash off. Only as I am drying my hair do I start feeling hungry. Mostly I still feel [[dazed]].

They were also a painful reminder of how nobody shed a tear at sending me away. Everyone was somber, but decisive. It had to be done. I know it, but I still feel… [[Abandoned]] [[Betrayed]] [[Angry]] [[Unloved]]

<<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> I have lived within the constraints of the Round River my whole life. Always been told I was wanted, an only child, the joy and pride of my father. How could he just send me away? For a mistake //he// made, too. [[Tears]] well in my eyes.

<<set $winter to $winter+1>> I have never given others a reason to be displeased with me. Those of us who live inside the Round River know we must all do our part to survive and stay safe. I have always excelled at pulling my own weight, and this is their love? My life for the mistakes of my father. [[Tears]] sting in my eyes.

It is not fair. It is just not fair. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> My father did not even look me in the eyes when he told me what the town council had decided. That giving a bride to the wolves was a traditional offering, and nobody else volunteered their children for it. Of course they did not. [[Tears]] appear in my eyes, but I swipe them away.

It is true my father has not paid much attention to me ever since mom died. True, I never went hungry, but it has sometimes been hard to tell myself I matter. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> I always thought my father did care, he just was not the type to say it out loud. That I mattered. What a beautiful lie. [[Tears]] rise in my eyes, and I let them come.

A knock on the door steals my attention again and sends my heart racing. “Who is it?” I call out nervously. “Selene.” Her warm voice floods me with relief. “Are you up yet? I came to help you get dressed, in case you wanted dinner.” “Come in,” [[I call out to her]].

The door opens and she emerges. She is wearing the same white gown as before, but now accompanied with a mint green, crocheted tunic and a red, woven belt. “Did you sleep well?” Her smile is just as lovely as it was in the morning. I nod. She has brought me a dark blue gown, a white petticoat, and a coal-grey cardigan. The last one has an odd texture, so I examine it closer. [[Wolf fur has been woven into the pattern.]]

I wonder, whose. The strands are white. [[Take the cardigan]] [[Leave it]]

It is still very early in the spring. Better to take whatever warmth is offered. <<set $winter to $winter+1>> I slip the cardigan on and hope it does not smell like a wet dog if it rains. [[Still no shoes.]]

There is no way I will wear anything woven with wolf fur. Who knows what kind of significance it carries here. <<set $winter to $winter-1>> I leave the cardigan on the bed and let Selene help me put the rest of the outfit on. [[Still no shoes.]]

After brushing my hair Selene starts leading me downstairs. I have slept through the whole day, but there is the scent of a dinner wafting through the air. Warm, spicy. She stops at the entrance to the dining room and gestures me in before continuing her way down the corridor. A part of me wants to call her back when I see Calev and Shai sitting inside, but I steel myself. [[I am not dead yet.]]

The two wolves are engaged in a quiet conversation that pauses when I step in - and stop on the threshold. That is how far my courage takes me. I remember again the size of Calev’s teeth, my eyes drift to Shai’s long, strong claws. [[I start shaking, even when I try my best to hide it.]]

The shaking gets worse when both of them turn their eyes to me. A dark, deep pair, like two pools of ink, on Shai's neutral, beautiful face. Calev's pale green, reflective like the animals of the forest at night. Their clothes are well-made, but the stare of both is the unflinching stare of beasts. I swallow. [[How could my father have sent me here?]]

A moment passes as none of us seem to know how to react. If not for the dinner served on the table - potatoes, butter, meat, roasted vegetables, fruit and honey - I would turn and run. I am hungry. And so I force myself to stay still. Before I can swallow my fear, [[something moves under the table]].

My breath comes out as a shallow gasp when I see a large wolf, ash grey and white paws, emerge from under the tablecloth right in front of me. And when I say right in front of me, I mean an inch between its teeth and my stomach. The history of humans and werewolves is written with our blood. My body has inherited the biological understanding of just how soft my belly is under the sharpness of teeth designed to tear it apart. For centuries we have fought for our freedom. The small towns and peaceful villages within the Round River are the only place in the world safe from the Night and Forest. Yesterday my body was too tired to care about the memory of survival. Today, [[it remembers.]]

My eyes flit over to the men at the table. They are still staring at me, just like the wolf is. ... is this some sort of test? [[I am too scared to do anything.]] [[I tell the wolf to sit.]] [[I reach over to pet the wolf.]] [[I take a deep breath and walk past the wolf.]]

I swallow my anger and resentment. If this is a game, I will not give them the satisfaction of crying or begging. Not even when it fills me with crippling frustration to be so close to the food, yet be denied eating it. <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> When I do not move, Shai tilts his head slightly. "I think she is afraid of Ciar," he says and turns to Calev. Calev blinks. "Is that so?" His voice sounds like it was a strange thing to be afraid of a full-grown wolf staring at you from a biting distance. "He won't harm you. Meet Ciar, my second-in-command. Ciar, this is $name, our to-be-queen." The wolf exhales sharply through its nostrils and tilts its head at me. Then it yawns, wags its tail tentatively and walks over to settle on the floor. Just like [[an enormous guard dog]].

"Sit," I say, made bold by the thought that this might be their test. If they want to play stupid games, the least I can do is to ensure they will receive stupid rewards for their efforts. <<set $spring to $spring-1>> "He is not a dog." Calev sounds, for the first time, truly and thoroughly cross with me. Shai's reaction is harder to gauge, but somehow I get the impression I have committed a social mistake of some sort. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> "Nobody introduced us yet," I point out. "This is Ciar, my second-in-command," Calev sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Ciar, the rude person whose presence you find yourself in is $name. She will be our queen." The wolf scoffs and walks over to the carpet, then slumps to settle down there like [[an enormous guard dog]].

I turn my gaze back to the wolf. It looks back, its ears flicking just slightly. From what I can tell it has a relaxed body language, not tense, and it has not made any gestures to attack me. I hope I will not regret this. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> My hand is still shaking, but I extend it over and place it between the two pale ears. They flick again, then it presses its head against my stomach so my hand slips to the thick mane of its neck. Nervous laughter bubbles from my lip as I start to ruffle it gently. "There, there," I manage to say, my words stilted and nervous. The wolf rests its head against me. "Ciar, this is $name," Calev speaks finally up at the table. "$name, this is Ciar, my second-in-command." Ciar pushes his head against me one more time before slipping away from contact. He blinks, once, and then settles on the floor like [[an enormous guard dog]].

I stifle my fear one breath at a time. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The sound shudders, but I force myself to take a step towards the wolf and past it, then another. Then another. <<set $winter to $winter+1>> The wolf does not move to do anything to stop me, just follows me with its gaze. "$name, this is Ciar, my second-in-command," Calev introduces him as I stop next to the table. "Ciar, this is $name, our queen-to-bed." He seems to be talking to the wolf. Its eyes are still locked on me as I turn back to look. Then it yawns, walks over to the carpet and settles down to lay there like [[an enormous guard dog]].

"Is he - a werewolf, too?" I ask and head over to sit at the table, at a slight distance from both Calev and Shai. Ciar observes me as I take a plate and start piling food on it. His eyes, golden brown, remind me of any other wolf except for their shape. And the intelligence shining through. "Yes, he simply prefers the floor." From anyone else I would assume this to be a slight towards Ciar, but Shai seems genuine. I notice that both of them have stopped eating, and only resume once I [[pick up my fork]].

Since nobody prevents or denies me from eating, I eat. The salted, buttered potatoes, the juicy meat, the seasoned vegetables, all of it melts in my mouth. It is delicious. I have to struggle to not eat too fast. This time of the year is always the hardest. When the food storages are empty, when the foraging season has not yet begun, when there is less food and more work to be done than at other times. In the latter half of the winter, everyone is constantly hungry. Now I eat, and note that here nobody seems starved. The thought helps me stop shaking, at the very least. At the very least they are not starved enough to make their next meal out of me. [[... I hope.]]

"Did you sleep well?" Calev asks me as he is wiping the rest of the sauce from his plate with a piece of white bread. The question comes at a good time, as I have just realised I have been eating too fast and the food is starting to get caught in my throat. "Yes," I reply and reach out for an empty glass. Before I can pick it up, Shai does it in my stead and fills it with pearlescent liquid. I sniff at it before taking a sip. It smells like wine - sweet, soft wine. The taste is delicate and light, and [[warms up my whole body]].

A silent moment stretches as I try to figure out where to take the conversation next. As my body has now been nourished, my thoughts are running faster than before - and as such, are now informing me that Calev was making small talk. //And you, did you sleep well?// Except they probably did not sleep. I am the one who slept through the day, they will probably head to bed any moment now. I take a third sip of the wine as I try to feverishly think about something - anything - to talk about. [[Ask about Ciar]] [[Ask about the temple at the backyard]] [[Ask about Selene]]

"What is the temple at the backyard for?" I deem it a relatively safe conversation topic. Shai tilts his head, then his eyes light up in recognition. "That is our library," he says and smiles warmly at me. "I would be happy to give you a tour at some point, should you wish for it." I hold back a question asking //what would you need a library for//. If they have a library - and if Shai treats it with this much interest - it is evident at least some of them can read. That some of them might even enjoy reading. [[I love books.]] [[I am not a big reader.]]

"So... do you all have someone who is second to your command?" I ask and nod towards Ciar. "Or is he simply an exception?" <<set $spring to $spring+1>> "I think you should come over here and answer the questions yourself," Calev calls out. Ciar lowers his head between his paws. //Now// the grumble he makes is clearly dissatisfied. Shai hides a small smile behind his handkerchief. "Ciar." Calev's tone has authority in it, but he, too, is smiling. Ciar lets out a deep, wolven sigh. Then he rolls on his back, and by the time he finishes the movement, there is a [[silver-haired man laying on his back on the floor.]]

"I met Selene," I start. "She is very different from all of you." <<set $winter to $winter+1>> "Of course she is," Calev says with a smile. "Even among her own people, she is a bit of an unique case." <<set $selene to 1>> "Who are 'her people'?" I try to read the general impressions of their mood. Both their eyes light up just at the mention of Selene. Even the formal Shai seems a bit more relaxed as he smiles. "The flower people," he tells me warmly. "Just like werewolves fall somewhere between humans and wolves, flower people fall somewhere between humans and flowers." I nod. The effect is similar as with Selene yesterday: if I just look at her, without thinking, without analysing, I can understand the concept. But the moment I start thinking [[deeper about it]]...

He stares at me in the eyes, and I stare at... all of him. He is lean in a way that seems to suggest he runs long distances frequently, and the dark freckles on his face give him a boyish look. There are dark shadows under his eyes, but my initial impression is an observant, quiet person. He is also wearing nothing but his underwear. "What do you want to know?" His voice surprises me. I expected it to be soft, but it is hoarse: as if from [[lack of use]].

"Oh, uh..." He stares at me intently as I stammer: "What do you do? For Calev?" Ciar's eyes flit over to Calev before landing back on me. "Errands. And we are friends." He continues his earlier slow roll from his back to his stomach. From there, he makes it all the way up to a sitting position. "I see." How does he expect me to carry the conversation from there? "And... do all seconds in command run, er, errands?" "Shai and Azar share theirs, so I assume so." Ciar tilts his head thoughtfully one way. "I think [[Dina]] doesn't run errands."

"You could consider teaching him some manners," Shai chastises Calev gently when the conversation again peters out. "How do you mean? He's out there, talking to her," Calev protests. "Court manners." Shai sounds slightly exasperated. "Decorative speech. Or perhaps even some niceties, compliments..." "I can do a compliment," Ciar declares, turning sharply to look at Shai, then just as sharply back at me. I straighten up, bracing myself. "You," he says, "[[smell clean.]]"

Shai's shoulders twitch with held-back laughter. "We'll work on it," Calev promises. He gives the slightest of nods to Ciar, who promptly turns back into a wolf and looks much more comfortable like that. [[I finish my dinner in silence.]]

After eating, I withdraw back to my room. My body feels heavy in a manner that suggests I can still get some sleep tonight, but not right after having slept through the whole day. The thought of wandering alone in a werewolf mansion - or outside in a wolf territory - does not appeal to me. I have no idea how the other wolves in here feel about me. Perhaps they want to hunt me for sport simply for the fact that I am a human? Or for the fact that [[the former queen was killed]] by my father?

"If the two of you are going to start a deeper analysis on the origins of the flower people, I'm leaving," Calev sighs when Shai looks excited. The words seem to rein it in, and instead Shai just clears his throat. "The origins are the topic of many discussions," he admits and smiles sheepishly at me. "But perhaps those can be taken up some other time. The way I explained it just now explains the very basic concept of what she is." "So what does it mean that she is [[unique even among her own]]?" I ask.

"Most flower people are closer to plants than humans," Shai explains and leans a bit closer. He is clearly well-read and interested in the topic. "They are as incredibly varied as the flora everywhere. Some of them are old, even ancient, like trees. Others might live a single year to their fullest, then die." Oh. A sudden cold nervousness shoots through me. "And which end of that extreme Selene is?" I do not want to ask, but suddenly I feel like I need to know. "We are not sure," Calev sighs. "All we know is that she is the one flower [[closest to humans there ever has been]]."

"She talks, she spends time with us, she walks from one place to another," Shai lists. "One day, she just came here and made herself at home in the garden. She did not speak a single word, but learned by listening to us." "And ever since, she has been full of questions and curiosity," Calev sighs again, but this time the sound is fond. "Especially about Ze'ev. Our little flower cannot help being fascinated by the winter, even when it could kill her." "And now about you, too," Shai points out and turns his dark gaze back to me. "Whenever we mention you, I swear I can see her [[glowing]]."

I remember Selene's warm smile, her curious eyes, and the way her skin did seem like lit up by some inner light. A warmth settles to my chest upon the realisation she does not glow around just anyone. [[I finish my dinner in silence.]]

"I would love to see what kind of books you have," I admit. Shai's eyes narrow in an appreciative smile. <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> "We have detailed accounts on history, as well as geography," he starts listing with evident ease. Like a lorekeeper. "Arts, poetry. And magic, of course." The last item on the list catches me by surprise. [["Magic?"]]

"Perhaps at some point," I reply politely. I have never particularly enjoyed sitting still and reading books; I prefer doing things rather than reading about them. Shai nods, accepting my polite refusal. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> "We have detailed accounts on history, as well as geography," he lists with evident ease. Like a lorekeeper. "Arts, poetry. And magic, of course." The last item on the list catches me by surprise. [["Magic?"]]

"We all have access to some magic," Calev says and sweeps his hand across the wooden table. I watch with fascination as suddenly the surface blossoms with small, butter-yellow spring flowers. "The old kind, carried in the nature's memory. Shai is the most skilled." "I have been practising the most," Shai corrects Calev, but with a smile that seems to imply he does not mind the praise. With an easy gesture he sweeps a hand over his empty dishes, and I watch as they float to the side table. Ciar flicks an ear as they cross right above him, then settles once they are safely on the table again. "I never knew werewolves could use magic." I am so shocked by the revelation I let the [[words out without thinking]].

"There are many things humans don't know about us," Calev says and stretches. "We get some of our powers from the season we have bound ourselves to, some of it from our werewolf blood, and some of it through studying." "Which means I am not the most skilled, I am the most studied," Shai reminds him as he arranges Calev's empty dishes next to his own with another flick of his wrist. "I am not even the most powerful." "Oh, yeah." Calev laughs, and again I see a glimpse of his teeth. "[[That would be Ze'ev.]]"

I watch as Calev runs a gentle hand over the flowers, and they blossom more brightly for a moment before withering away. Shai sweeps them off with a flick of his wrist like scattered dry autumn leaves. He seems to be waiting for me to be done with eating. [[I finish my dinner in silence.]]

Neither these thoughts nor boredom get to plague me for long, because in the silence of the night my ears start picking even the most delicate sounds. The quiet birds, the singing of the cicadas… [[And a delicate violin melody coming from the gardens.]]

I make my way towards the balcony and open the door. The melody is delicate and the echoes of notes layer through the air. It swells with emotion; longing, grief, love, and not even the occasional gust of wind can silence the clear notes. Despite looking around I can not find the source to the music, but my heart demands to get closer to hear better. The corridors are empty and quiet [[as I slip out of my room]].

This world is strange, frightening and makes me feel like a trespasser. All the beauty found in it is sharp like the blade of a knife. So I do not think I can be faulted for being so drawn to something this beautiful. When I arrive at the entrance where the stained glass painting of the phases of the moon casts its colourful shadows on the floor, the wind settles and I hear the melodies clearer than before. The passage played with skillful fingers and strong bowings is so passionate it brings heat to my cheeks, as if just listening to it [[was somehow intimate]].

I hesitate for a moment before sneaking out from the doorway. The wind picks up again, and the melody changes its colour. Where earlier it sounded like the blue of the night and solitude, the white of grief, it now turns into candlelight warmth, the red of bed sheets, the soft and sensual notes climbing from low and wine-coloured to high and alluring. My heart beats a bit faster when I follow the stepping stones around the corner towards the backyard garden. Hyacinths spread their scent around me as the tidiness of the front yard turns into a more overgrown and lush garden, with large bushes and archways both offering direction and sheltering me from the eyes of the night everywhere. Then, just as I stop to try to determine where the music is coming from, [[it stops and I am left in the silence.]]

I am now alone. Outside. In the middle of the night. And in silence, too, when a howl from the woods [[silences all the cicadas and nightbirds, even the wind]].

I turn around. Suddenly all the pathways and turns look the same, which only makes my anxiety grow. After hesitating for a whole of two seconds, I start heading back as fast as I can stealthily manage. Thankfully the Moon Mansion looms above everything, especially its highest tower. I can use it as a landmark and try to head towards it, trying to keep my steps as quiet as possible. There is a [[rustling sound of steps ahead]].

My heart leaps to my throat. Guards - of course the mansion would have guards. [[I hide!]] [[I turn around and run!]]

I jump behind the nearest structure - a gate, it seems, adorned with a plant I suspect to be wisteria. It would offer more cover if it was in full bloom, but I do not want to risk taking too much time finding a better hiding place. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> The steps approach. <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> //Please don’t notice me.// They slow down at the gate where I am hiding. //Please, please don’t notice me.// I hear the sound of someone - a very masculine, a very… inhuman, animal-like… sound of someone [[inhaling sharply, taking in the scents in the air]].

I turn around and take off, trying to match my steps to the pace of whoever is guarding the gardens at night. <<set $winter to $winter+1>> Perhaps they will mistake my steps as the echo of their own. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> I hear the steps turning, stilling - then they start following the same path I am on. My heart is beating faster as I try to make my route as complex as possible while not getting myself lost. Perhaps, if I can go around, I could even make my way back to the Moon Mansion without running into him…? Whoever it is, he is moving faster than I am. I hear the sound of someone - a very masculine, a very… inhuman, animal-like… sound of someone [[inhaling sharply, taking in the scents in the air.]]

I hold my breath and force my every muscle to stay still. The whole world stands still around me. Then… A soft, low laughter. The steps continue down the path and [[leave me to my hiding place]].

I hold my breath and duck behind a particularly fragrant group of hyacinths. The whole world stands still around me. Then… A soft, low laughter. The steps turn back and [[leave me to my hiding place]].

I hold my breath for as long as I dare, then release it in a shivering gasp. I must get back. Right away. I stumble back on the path, and to my horror, someone rises from the nearby flowerbed of purple crocuses and stands up in front of me, a [[tall, pale figure-]]

I hold back my scream at the last second when I recognise Selene. She blinks and seems surprised to see me. Her white nightgown has soil on the shoulders, and at least one bundle of weeds. And I think that is an ant running down her sleeve and dropping down. I release the scream as a shaky exhale instead. “Good night,” Selene greets me, lips parted and eyes wide, then looks at me, worried. “Shouldn’t you [[be sleeping]]?”

“I, I..” I consider explaining to her the violin, my restlessness of having already slept the whole day, the quiet of my room, the worrying, but my body is so overtaken with adrenaline no words come out. Thankfully she does not look like she is going to demand an explanation. “Come,” she just says and takes my hand with a gentle hold, “[[I will take you back.]]”

And she does. And I stay in my room, obediently, for the rest of the night. For the better part of an hour I keep my ears sharp in case I might hear the violin again, but [[it has gone silent for the night]].

By the next morning my body is demanding movement. The weather outside is bright and beautiful, a gorgeous spring day, and I promptly wash and get dressed. If I was still at home, I would already be outside. There is always something to do: managing the firewood, the fields and the gardens. Fixing the fences and roofs ravaged by winter. Fishing, hunting, foraging. Cleaning, skinning, cooking. I want to do [[something]].

This time I find my way to the dining hall doorway without help, and hear the echoing sound of barking laughter all the way to the corridor before even entering. The sound does not seem to belong to reserved Shai, nor to Calev whose voice is higher. “I will make sure next time there will be no grass in my hair,” I hear Selene saying, her voice as gentle and soft as the earlier voice was rough and rowdy. “No need.” Azar speaks, and I quickly connect the laughter to him. His tone is amused. “[[It suits you.]]”

He seems to be in a good mood. As soon as I appear at the doorway, his laughter stills as if someone had cut it with scissors, and his expression sours. It seems like this morning everyone is eating - except Ze’ev, whose presence at the breakfast is only visible as an empty coffee cup at the side table. Apparently he has risen early. Azar and Selene are sitting on one side of the table, Calev and Shai on the other. Shai casts a concerned look at Azar, but then his expression turns neutral again as he nods at me. I nod back. I step in the room, and this time do not freeze when I see Ciar’s tail wagging under the table. [[I just sit appropriately away from it.]]

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Calev continues as I find a plate and start slowly gathering food from different serving bowls. “Ciar could take over some of the guard duties. Yes, it will be rough, but it will only be for a week. After the transition of the responsibilities, things should settle a bit.” “I wonder if that is the case,” Shai sighs, sounding a bit troubled. “Not to offend you, but you aren’t exactly familiar with all the minute details on how to keep things running around here. Lady Freya was the one to do most of the governing in the spring season, was she not?” Calev bares his teeth at Shai so quickly there is only a white click of his fangs - not enough time for me to startle, so the shudder falls through my spine only seconds after the gesture. Lady Freya. [[They must be talking about the former queen.]]

A solemn silence settles over the table as Calev lets out a deep sigh and rubs his eyes. I focus on eating, drinking, savouring every delicious bite. I would probably feel a pang of guilt over how much this seems to trouble them if I was not one of the most troubled in this situation. I am not quite as benevolent as to say //we are all in this together//, but… I am not the one at fault here. Ciar shifts under the table and after a moment, I see him appearing and sitting down at Calev’s side. Calev starts to absent-mindedly pet his back, deep in his thoughts. “Well, we’ll pull through somehow,” he finally says and straightens, smiling again. “And as stated, Ciar will take Lady Freya’s guard shifts.” [[Ciar wags his tail.]]

“We will help you, of course,” Shai rushes to assure. “I am sure that Ze’ev-” “Hasn’t Zevik already ruled for a whole season? Give him a break,” Azar thunders, interjecting. “Isn’t it thanks to his efforts that all three of us can sit here and feel sorry for what happened to Freya? Sort your own shit out.” “Easy for you to say,” Calev sighs and turns his eyes towards Azar, not flinching under their storm. “Then, I guess I’ll be counting on your assistance instead?” “Naturally,” Azar scoffs and pushes his plate away, apparently not going to finish his meal. “Summer follows Spring, as has always been. I’m not going to sit back and watch you make more work for me.” “I’ll be in your care,” Calev notes with a playful tone and [[an exaggerated smile.]]

As their conversation turns to what sounds like coronation arrangements, Shai turns to me with a more polite smile. The vertical line has now faded from between his eyebrows. “Have you had the chance to look around the mansion grounds yet?” His voice is polite. “Not yet. I was actually wondering if I’m already expected to do something,” I reply, looking around at the table. “Like help with the ruling duties, or…” “Zevik said he wants to take care of it by himself,” Azar points out with a crisp tone, his eyes now turning to me. “The paperwork, the wrap-up, the handover. He has his hands full with enough things to do because of Freya’s death, he doesn’t have time to waste.” … to explain things to an ignorant newcomer. He does not say it aloud, but he might as well have. [[Heat rises to my cheeks, but I refrain from replying.]]

“Perhaps we could do something, then,” Shai suggests as he sips his tea. Azar’s eyes flash and he turns to Shai with a sharp movement of his head, as if suddenly measuring an enemy. “Oh?” His tone is low and warm, too soft to not be threatening. Shai, however, does not seem deterred in the slightest. “You said it yourself a moment ago, did you not?” A playful hint of a smile appears on his lips. It looks teasing. “We sit here, feeling sorry for ourselves, while Ze’ev works. It hardly seems fair, does it?” These creatures, wild and ferocious as the forest, are threatening each other and baring their teeth at the breakfast table as if it was normal around here. “Then, what do you suggest?” Azar asks [[and grins, all of his teeth bared]].

“I think it would be useful to at least show her around,” Shai says and finishes his tea, then leaves his cup down - no. An inch away from the table surface, yet it sits perfectly still on thin air. After a moment he makes a dismissing gesture and the cup hovers to the side table. “Why not?” Calev stretches his back. “She’s expected to at least seat the throne in a week’s time. Can’t do that if she keeps getting lost around here.” “I think it sounds like a good idea,” Selene speaks up with her gentle voice before Azar can voice his displeasure. Azar’s blue eyes flick briefly at Selene, then at me. Then he grumbles and folds [[his arms over his wide chest]].

“I’d like that,” I say before anyone can change their mind about this. Knowing my way around here might one day be imperative to my survival - if there is a chance I might be hunted for sport, I need to know the surrounding area better than these monsters. Every place to hide in. How to make the trail go cold. Everything. “Then it is settled.” Shai claps his hands together, once, and turns to me with a smile. “I believe none of us are too busy today to show you around. Who would you want to go with?” [[Azar]] [[Calev]] [[Shai]] [[Selene]]

Azar frowns heavily when I speak his name. <<set $summer to $summer+1>> “Why?” The word is not a question. It is a demand - but at least he is not turning me down. Perhaps it is not allowed for a werewolf to turn down a direct request like mine. “Because you seem to be the one to think the worst of me,” I tell him, not bothering to fix my expression. “If Calev truly does not have the best skills as the leader, shouldn’t you be demanding more from me, too?” “Hey now,” Calev sighs, rolling his eyes. “I’m not //that// helpless.” Azar’s jaw moves, as if he was grinding his teeth together. Then he huffs out a laugh - an approving one. “Very well,” he agrees and stands up, then walks all the way over to me. It is only now that he towers directly above me that I realise how tall he is - and how strength radiates from him. He flashes me his teeth again, in that expression that so closely resembles a grin. “[[Shall we]]?” <<set $storyflag to "summer">>

Calev immediately straightens up like an excited puppy. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> “I thought you’d never ask!” He quickly gathers what is left of his breakfast dishes, leaves them on the table and heads straight to me. “Shall we go right away?” “Don’t you forget to deliver the new guard schedule to me,” Azar interjects, his voice rising just slightly in a way - as if he seemed to be certain that the matter has slipped from Calev’s mind. “I would also request that if you have any requirements for the coronation arrangements, you deliver them to me,” Shai joins with a similar tone when Calev ushers me out of my chair. “Yes, yes,” Calev says and grabs a couple of apples from the table. “Ciar will take care of those things. Just ask him.” Ciar lets out a deep, heavy sigh as we exit. “[[Shall we]]?” Calev asks outside the door, grinning. <<set $storyflag to "spring">>

Shai smiles and bows slightly, his hand resting over his heart. “It would be my pleasure,” he assures me warmly. “Whenever you are done eating, then.” <<set $autumn to $autumn+1>> I hastily finish what is left of my breakfast - the quicker I can be away from Azar’s stinging glare, the better. “But Shai,” Calev starts with a whining voice, smiling, “surely you aren’t in too much of a hurry to clear the table for us?” Shai makes a thoughtful sound as he eyes the empty bowls, empty cups, empty serving plates. Then he smiles sweetly at Calev. “It is good practice for you to do it every now and then.” His voice is matter-of-factly and his eyes sparkle with inner laughter. “Now, then, my lady. Let us be off.” “I can clear the table,” Selene suggests as I make my way to the door with Shai. Calev is about to accept the offer, but then I hear Azar’s low, snarling voice: “Calev, don’t you even //think// about accepting that. Come on. Let’s get to it.” Shai seems satisfied with himself as the door closes behind us. "[[Shall we]]?" <<set $storyflag to "autumn">>

Selene turns her impossibly large, impossibly beautiful eyes to me and smiles widely. I take note that there are no empty dishes in front of her. “I will show you all the places,” she promises and stands up. Azar glowers at me. “If you do anything to harm her,” he warns me, eyes full of fury, “anything to put her in risk, anything at all - I will end you.” “Relax,” Calev urges him with a yawn, “this is our territory. Nothing will happen to either of them here, this whole place is safe.” “It is specifically that lax attitude of yours,” Azar starts, now directing his rage at Calev, “that currently has me worried about your reign…” Selene does not seem to mind the small storm brewing at the table behind us as she leads me to the door. "[[Shall we]]?" <<set $storyflag to "selene">>

We make our way to the entrance of the mansion. <<if visited("Shall we") > 1>> "Where should we go next?" <<else>> "Where would you like to start from?" <</if>> <> <<if visited("The Gardens") == 0>> [[The Gardens]] <</if>> <<if visited("The Lake") == 0>> [[The Lake]] <</if>> <<if visited("The Library") == 0>> [[The Library]] <</if>> <<if visited("The Flower Fields") == 0>> [[The Flower Fields]] <</if>> <> <<set $wolf to false>> <<if $garden is true and $lake is true and $library is true and $field is true>> "[[Actually, I am getting quite tired.]]" <<else>> <</if>>

The garden at the front yard is beautiful and stretches not only down the hill and all the way to where the lake is, but also far into the backyard. Daffodils, hyacinths and early wisterias bring painted colours to the landscape and decorate the way to the mansion. Here and there they are accompanied by apple and cherry trees. Past them, in the middle parts of the garden, I see sunflowers, hydrangeas not yet blooming, and tastefully grown summer magnolias. They seem to transition seamlessly to rows of delicate maples and heather, and closest to the treeline I see evergreens, pines, spruces, juniper. <<if $storyflag == "spring">> Calev’s mood seems to immediately improve once we are outside. His steps grow longer, and his smile seems more relaxed as soon as the fresh wind blows to our faces. His hair becomes quickly tousled in the wind, and the sunlight makes it glow like a halo. Every bit of him looks like the prince charming of the stories. <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> Azar seems to be more at ease outside than indoors. He fills his lungs with fresh air, and the tension around his jawline finally eases a bit despite my presence. His tanned skin leads me to believe he spends a lot of his time outside, the muscles tensing and easing revealing that at least some of it must be some form of physical training. <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> Shai seemed more comfortable inside. He squints slightly against the bright sunshine; everything about him seems to suggest he is a scholar instead of a fighter. Somehow it seems surprising for a werewolf. Only when I pay attention I can see the wolf: his pupils which are larger than normal, the slightly sharp canines, something about his posture. <<else>> Selene smiles brightly at me as she starts leading me through the gardens. Every now and then she stops to spin or to take some dance steps, her peach hair glowing in the sun. Watching her makes me smile, too. She looks the kind of carefree you can only be when you feel completely and undeniably safe somewhere. <</if>> The garden is not meticulous like the noble gardens I have read about; there is [[an air of wilderness to it.]]

When we start heading down towards the lake shore, I hesitate. Indoors my lack of shoes did not bother me as much, but the route down the hill and to the muddy soil where reeds grow makes me wish there was something between my bare feet and the ground. <<if $storyflag == "spring">> Calev seems to sense my hesitation. He turns to me with a head tilt and a charming smile. <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> Azar seems to sense my hesitation. He turns to look at me and arches his brows inquisitively. <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> Shai seems to sense my hesitation. “Is something the matter, my lady?” <<else>> Selene seems to sense my hesitation. She turns to smile at me and stops to wait for me to speak up. <</if>> [[Ask for shoes]] [[Enjoy walking barefeet]] <<set $lake to true>>

We walk through the gardens, going largely through the same route I took when I was looking for the source of that mysterious violin music. At the corner of the house, where the garden starts turning into the orchard at the backyard, there is a terrace that stretches out of the house. It is shaped as gibbous and made from polished redwood, and it has a large table carved from silver aspen. The table is old, but clearly well kept and loved, and the chairs are fitted with comfortable decorative pillows. My eyes travel up the pillars of the terrace, where ivy and other vines compete for space, to the slight arch of the ceiling. [[This would be a very good location for night-time music.]]

I want to see the flower fields past the lake again, so we set out to walk. This time we approach the flower field from a different direction, through a path that takes us there faster but does not go past the lakeshore. The part of me that has grown used to thinking of everything through a lens of survival, preparation and necessities keeps an eye out for any useful herbs, and it does appear [[the field answers to my call]]. <<set $field to true>>

For the most part this still feels like a dream I have not yet woken up from. Any moment now I might open my eyes, wake up in my own comfortable bed, draped in the blanket I have woven for myself, in a room which is small enough to feel like home. Or any moment now I might be eaten when one of the wolves decides they have had it with the waiting of their meal. I swallow and hurry my steps to chase away my anxiety, [[even when there is nowhere to run.]]

“So…” I start, just to hear my own voice. “... Ciar seems to enjoy spending a lot of his time as a wolf?” <<if $storyflag == "spring">> “He does,” Calev agrees, still smiling. He adjusts his walking pace so that we fall in step. “Some prefer it that way. There are many packs in the woods that spend a majority of their time as wolves.” “Is there any reason as to why?” I ask, deeming it a neutral and a safe question to ask. The way Calev’s eyes dim a bit suggests I assumed wrong. “Some have their reasons,” he says, a non-answer to my question. “Ciar has his. It is also easier for me.” //Easier how//, I want to ask, but I have already made one blunder in this conversation. I should save some for our future interactions. “I would imagine human form would have many benefits?” I ask. Now Calev’s expression thaws again. “Something I would like to point out,” he says, his tone of the gentle advice from a friend, “is that we do not have human forms. We are werewolves. Even when we shed our skin, we are never fully human, never will be. Never want to be.” <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> “That’s the way he is,” Azar states with a very factual tone. It is easy to imagine him saying other things and observations with the same tone. The water is wet. The sky is blue. Ciar likes to be a wolf. Apparently Ciar also does not mind being naked. The memory draws a faint blush on my cheeks. “So is it a personality type? Or some sort of… physical preference?” I ask to try and keep the conversation going. Azar frowns slightly. Ah. Perhaps his factual tone was not just a characteristic, but a sign the topic is not neutral. “In this case,” Azar responds to me either way, “I would have to say it’s a personal preference that you would have to ask more about from either him or Calev.” “Even in his human form, Ciar did not seem very talkative,” I point out. Azar stops and his frown deepens. “I’d like for you to keep something in mind,” he says and pulls to a stop, turning to me. His eyes are cold again. “We are werewolves. We don’t have //human// forms. We are always wolves, even if we appear similar to you - we are not.” <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> “Some wolves prefer to stay in the form which allows them keener senses,” Shai explains to me. “It may also be a personal preference, as is the case with Ciar. All werewolves know how to shift to a wolf and how to shed that skin at will, but the urge to do so is the strongest during the full moon.” I wonder if I will ever get to see Ciar wearing clothes, or if he always appears naked when he is not a wolf. The memory draws a faint blush to my cheeks. “So none of you prefer to stay as a wolf?” I ask. “I have mostly seen all of you in your human forms - ah, except Calev, when he brought me here.” Shai inhales and turns thoughtful. All of a sudden it feels like I have committed a social blunder. “You would probably not know this,” he says, his expression and tone carefully polite, “but you should try to avoid referring to these forms as human forms. It is slightly misleading, as we are never human. Even when we look like them, it is always werewolf blood that flows in our veins, not human one.” <<else>> “Oh, yes.” Selene’s eyes grow soft and narrow with fondness. “He is always by Calev’s side, and it appears to calm him down.” “Like some sort of…” I try to come up with descriptive words. “... support, uhm… animal?” “A little bit like that.” Selene smiles warmly at my wording. I am quite sure Azar would have had my head for it. In this case I feel it is understandable. “Not that I am saying Ciar is an animal,” I move to explain regardless. “Even when he is in wolf form most of the time, he does have a human form too?” Just a naked one. “I guess,” Selene says and tilts her head, now turning thoughtful. “Even when you probably should not call it that. They are not animals, but neither are they humans. They are werewolves, and it is different.” <</if>> The sudden solemn tone catches me by surprise. [[I guess it makes sense]].

We walk through the rest of the garden paths in silence. The experience leaves me calmer than before, and wondering what it will look like in different seasons. When the magnolias blossom in the summer, when the autumn will dye the whole garden red, when the evergreens will be framed with the stillness of winter. [[We return to the mansion yard->Shall we]]. <<set $garden to true>>

“I was wondering,” I start politely, “if perhaps I should wear shoes outside. Will there not be soil and dirt inside otherwise?” <<if $storyflag == "spring">> Calev eyes me up and down, before his eyes narrow to a playful smile. “I would be more than happy to carry you,” he offers. [[Uh, no thank you.]] [[Actually, why not?]] <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> Azar blinks slowly, looks at my feet, then at me. His expression is a mix of disappointment and pity. “Does the good lady need to be carried?” His offer is clearly mocking. [[I’ll walk.]] [[Yes, she does.]] <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> Shai nods slowly and his expression turns thoughtful. As if he was considering the most polite approach in this situation. “You do not have to worry about that - but if it bothers you, could I offer to carry you?” [[No, thank you.]] [[Yes, please.]] <<else>> Selene looks at me curiously. Not necessarily like I had said anything wrong, or weird - just something she does not seem to have quite expected. “Oh, they did not show you yet?” Her expression finally brightens, as if she had solved a puzzle. “When you enter the Moon Mansion, there are towels and water basins to your left and right for tending to your feet.” “... oh.” Why would Calev not tell me about them on the first night? My feet were most likely covered in mud and clay. Then again, the hallways looked clean, so someone does clean there. “You do not have to worry about it,” she continues and smiles warmly. “I bring in dirt all the time. Although I like to soak my feet in the water after a long walk. It is good for my roots.” Come to think of it… I glance at Selene’s feet and sure enough, there are strands of what I originally mistook for light leg hair around her ankles, reaching on her foot. Not leg hair. Roots. She takes my hand, and we [[continue the path down to the lake]]. <</if>>

I hesitate for a moment longer. The warm grass and soft moss feels nice under my feet, as does the cool, firm clay. “It does not appear to be a problem that I am not wearing any shoes?” I finally ask. <<if $storyflag == "spring">> Calev blinks, then looks down at his own bare feet. When he looks back up at me, his eyes sparkle with mischievousness. “Sometimes,” he tells me conspiratorially, “you have to live a little.” He straightens and gestures for me to go on down the path. We set out to walk at a matching pace and he continues: “There are basins and towels at the entrance for tending to your feet. I will show you the rooms when we return to the Moon mansion.” A walk barefoot in a place like this, warm water and a chance to dry off properly? That sounds better than shoes, to be honest. We [[continue the path down to the lake]]. <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> Azar looks at me. Then he looks down at his own bare feet in a manner that feels very pointed. “No,” he simply says. “There are basins and towels at the entrance for tending to your feet. I will show you the rooms when we return to the Moon mansion.” “Calev did not show them to me on my first visit,” I explain as we start walking again at a matching pace. “I am not a…” //Wild animal.// The words nearly make it out of my mouth, and I am very glad they do not. “Of course he didn’t,” Azar sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose briefly. “Regardless, you need not worry about that. Do whatever you like.” We [[continue the path down to the lake]]. <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> “Not in the slightest,” Shai assures me. A quick glance at his feet reveals that he, too, is barefeet. “There are basins and towels at the entrance for tending to your feet. I will show you the rooms when we return to the Moon mansion.” “Calev did not show them to me on my first visit,” I explain as we start walking again at a matching pace. “I am not a…” //Wild animal.// The words nearly make it out of my mouth, and I am very glad they do not. “You do not have to worry about it,” Shai assures me. If he noticed I was about to say something, he does not comment on it, and his expression is at its usual unreadable politeness. We [[continue the path down to the lake]]. <<else>> “Oh, no,” Selene quickly responds to me, eyes glowing with warmth. “I do it all the time. Although I like to soak my feet in the water after a long walk. It is good for my roots.” <<set $selene to $selene+1>> Come to think of it… I glance at Selene’s feet and sure enough, there are strands of what I originally mistook for light leg hair around her ankles, reaching on her foot. Not leg hair. Roots. “There are basins and towels at the entrance for tending to your feet. I will show you the rooms when we return to the Moon mansion,” she adds, possibly misinterpreting me staring at her feet. A walk barefoot in a place like this, warm water and a chance to dry off properly? That sounds better than shoes, to be honest. We [[continue the path down to the lake]]. <</if>>

Calev’s grin widens at my refusal. The sight is infuriatingly attractive - and infectious. My attempts to remain in a vague mood seem to be facing a formidable opponent. “As you wish,” he bows theatrically and gestures onwards, “don’t worry about the dirt. There are carpets and water bowls at the entrance for cleaning your feet.” “Where?” I do not think I saw any upon entering. “Right to the left and right of the entrance,” Calev tells me as we resume walking. “There are warm waters, towels and salves. It is a nice, relaxing moment after a long walk outside.” I can see the appeal, especially after walking for long distances. I sure would have appreciated being told about that after I had to scramble through the woods. We [[continue the path down to the lake]].

“... sure?” I smile tentatively at him. Calev blinks - obviously he expected me to turn him down - and I see his eyes light up in an excited way. <<set $spring to $spring+1>> “Perfect!” He falls on his knees in front of me, and before I can say anything he falls forward on his hands - no, on his paws. He has shifted into a silver-coated wolf before I manage to process what has happened. <<set $wolf to true>> Of course he would mean as a wolf. What did I expect, a princess carry? He lets out a soft whine and pushes his head against my shoulder. It is enormous. His jaws are way too close to my body for comfort. “So how do I…” I start, hesitant, and look at him. He crouches down to allow me to climb on. I am pretty sure I tug at his fur when I settle on, but he does not as much as wince. Once I am firmly on, we [[continue the path down to the lake]].

Up close the lakeshore appears a lot less muddy than I initially thought, or perhaps remembered from my first arrival. The ground turns from clay and garden paths to more sandy soil the further down we go, until we are standing at the shoreline and watching the light rippling on the surface, wind playing with the forms. <<if $wolf == true>> I never thought what riding a wolf would be like. Their back is narrower than horse's, but the thick fur offers a different kind of comfort, a different kind of saddle. The more I relax and let my body sway with his movements, the easier the ride becomes. We do not exactly move as one, but I can take my time looking around. <<else>> There are not many words exchanged as we walk, and I get to fall into my thoughts and focus on how everything feels. Nothing is quite as soothing as the sound of water. It feels good to stretch my legs, even when there is a sense of aimless wandering in the activity for me - so I take my time looking around. <</if>> [[My eyes keep going back to the gazebo at the shore.]]

“No, thank you,” I tell him with all the pride I can muster and lift my chin at him. “Nevermind trying to be a courteous guest." <<set $summer to $summer+1>> I start heading down the garden path towards the hillside and the lake that waits underneath. Azar’s steps follow me from a polite distance away. “You don’t have to worry about the dirt,” he tells me after a moment of sullen silence and walking. “Everyone here is used to washing and cleaning their feet as soon as they get inside. Nobody expects a //human// to be as civilised.” I grit my teeth at his tone, but manage to remain quiet and demure as we [[continue the path down to the lake]].

Anger flares up inside me. //Play stupid games, win stupid prices.// <<set $winter to $winter+1>> “Yes.” I turn to him and straighten my back, and turn my gaze to lock with his. “And as the one accompanying me, I shall gladly take you up on your offer.” <<set $wolf to true>> He blinks slowly as his eyebrows climb up to his forehead. Clearly he expected me to turn him down. My stare continues to challenge him as the silence stretches, as he visibly tries to think of a polite way of telling me //no//. “Very well,” he finally says with an icy voice. “Hop on.” Hop-? I open my mouth to ask him to clarify when he kneels down to the ground and brings one hand against the clay path, then the other. My heart skips a beat when his body stretches, accommodates the new shape of joints and limbs, then another when in Azar’s place there stands a large coal black wolf with smouldering eyes. I inhale slowly to hide my fear, then empty my lungs by blowing the air out through slightly pursed lips. He clearly expects me to back down upon seeing him, and I will not give him the satisfaction. If I tug his fur while climbing on his broad back, he does not react to it. Once I am firmly and safely on, we [[continue the path down to the lake]].

“I admit that would make me feel even worse,” I tell him sheepishly. “But if you say I do not have to worry about bringing dirt in…” “Not in the slightest,” Shai assures me with a smile as he starts leading me down the clay path towards the lake. “There are small rooms near the entrance intended for washing, drying and tending to feet that you may use at your leisure.” “Really?” I cannot remember seeing them, but then again, I have not yet looked through every closed door at the foyer. “Yes.” Shai’s tone is warm in a way that makes me feel unexpectedly cared for. “I would recommend making good use of them - we spend a lot of our time outdoors, so taking care of our feet is considered important.” Makes sense. We [[continue the path down to the lake]].

“I mean, I would not say no, but…” I cast a tentative look at Shai. He has narrow shoulders and a slim build. How would he even carry me? “Then, please allow me to offer my strength for you,” Shai says with no regard at all to my hesitation. I blink and try to formulate a polite way to ask my question, but he kneels down before me, first on one knee, then on the other. His limbs elongate, and he is covered in reddish, brown, thick fur. When he next looks at me, it is with two dark brown, large wolf eyes. <<set $wolf to true>> My heart starts racing again, but Shai does not approach. Instead, he sits down in front of me, one of his ears flicking, and waits. I take a deep breath, gather my courage and step closer, one step, then another. I lean awkwardly over his back and place one leg over him. He blinks slowly, then stands up just as slowly and gives me a moment to settle. Once I am firmly on, we [[continue the path down to the lake]].

It overlooks the lake with a set of benches and ornate cut decorations at the wooden white pillars. As we move around the lake, it is always in my vision, and from there it is probably possible to see the whole lake. We take our time going around. The only sounds between us are the insects, the birds, and the sounds of our footsteps. When we start getting closer to the spot we started from an hour or so later, [[I take a closer look at the gazebo]].

There are six pillars, total, and on each pillar is carved a different moon phase: full moon, new moon, waning and waxing crescent, and waning and waxing gibbous. Above and below the carving there is carved text I cannot quite make out. This in itself is enough to please my eye for beauty, but what truly captures me is a glimpse of the gazebo ceiling, filled with paintings and carvings of stars and celestial bodies. [[I need to go back to take a better look at it later.]]

We make our way back up the hill. <<if $storyflag == "spring">> Compared to how full of life the lakeside was, how full of sounds of insects, water, wind and birds, the mansion gardens seem tranquil in comparison. <<if $wolf == true>> I dismount. It is almost disorienting to feel solid ground under my feet after riding for so long. Calev stretches and shifts back in a manner that seems effortless. He shakes himself like a dog - or, I guess, like a wolf - as if it would help him shake off the form, the skin, of the wolf. <<else>> My feet are a bit sore from all the walking, but my muscles feel pleasantly warm from the exercise. Calev stretches and looks at me with a cheerful smile, and this time I cautiously return it. <</if>> He looks so human, and his smile - in the lack of a better word - radiates warmth. <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> Compared to how full of life the lakeside was, how full of sounds of insects, water, wind and birds, the mansion gardens seem tranquil in comparison. <<if $wolf == true>> I dismount. It is almost disorienting to feel solid ground under my feet after riding for so long. Azar takes a couple of steps away from me, shakes himself, and shifts back in the same motion that takes him back to his feet. He has clearly done this so many times it is second nature for him now. <<else>> My feet are a bit sore from all the walking, but my muscles feel pleasantly warm from the exercise. Azar does not look at me any more favourably than before, but now there seems to be at least some form of neutrality. <</if>> I wonder what it would be like to befriend a werewolf, especially someone like Azar. <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> Compared to how full of life the lakeside was, how full of sounds of insects, water, wind and birds, the mansion gardens seem tranquil in comparison. <<if $wolf == true>> I dismount. It is almost disorienting to feel solid ground under my feet after riding for so long. Shai waits until I have fully regained my balance, before giving me space and shifting back. The shift is similar in nature as all his other gestures: subtle, efficient, unassuming. <<else>> My feet are a bit sore from all the walking, but my muscles feel pleasantly warm from the exercise. Shai offers me his arm, and after a moment of hesitation, I take it and fall to step with him. <</if>> <<else>> Compared to how full of life the lakeside was, how full of sounds of insects, water, wind and birds, the mansion gardens seem tranquil in comparison. My feet are a bit sore from all the walking, but my muscles feel pleasantly warm from the exercise. "That was fun," I tell Selene with a warm smile. "Do you often take walks near the lake?" "Always when the moon is full," she tells me and seems dreamy over the words. "It is beautiful - especially in the autumn, but the autumn is always very cold." "What about the winter?" I cannot help asking. Selene's eyes dim a bit, bit her smile does not fade. "I do not go out much in the winter," she says. Something wistful about her tone keeps me from pushing the topic further. <</if>> The day is beautiful, and [[the skies are clear->Shall we]].

We continue past the terrace and on towards the orchard. It is no less regal than the front garden: everything is in full bloom, and my vision fills with floral cascades on each tree. The bridal white of apple trees; the rich, romantic pink of the plums; the regal, reserved blush of the cherry trees contrasted against the dark branches; the cream-coloured, energetic flowers of the pear trees. The temple-like structure I saw from my window - the library - is bigger up close. I see the kitchen garden has already young sprouts of fireweed, spots of nettle, and at the back… One old, regal [[rowan tree]].

Seeing one here of all places takes me by surprise. Rowan is a sacred tree: according to the old stories, they are the only kind of arrows capable of preventing a werewolf from healing. There are stories of both werewolves and vampires occasionally raiding human villages and settlements simply for the crime of having these trees around. “Why is there a sacred tree here?” I blurt out. <<if $storyflag == "spring">> Calev looks at the tree with mild curiosity. “I don’t know,” he admits and shrugs. “Shai likes it?” <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> Azar looks at the tree with distaste. “No idea why Shai keeps it around,” he grumbles. <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> Shai looks at the tree with a mixture of reverence and fondness. “For research purposes,” he says with a smile. <<else>> Selene skips over to the tree and wraps her arms around it briefly. “I’m not sure,” she admits, smiling. “But I’m glad they kept it. We have become good friends.” <</if>> I guess the answer will have to do [[for now]].

We enter the library, and cool, dry air greets us. I hear rustling from ahead, as if someone had hurriedly hidden from us, but there is no sight of anyone else other than us two here. There are shelves along each of the walls, in neat rows across the floor, and at the back wall. In the very back corner I see stairs leading down, indicating that the library continues underground. I take one of the books from the shelf, curious about what I might find. The cover is red and beautiful, decorated with ornate thorn vines. I turn the first page, and… [[I cannot even recognise the runes, let alone the language.]]

Footsteps follow me and stop behind my left shoulder. <<if $storyflag == "spring">> Calev looks at me with a smile that is difficult to read, to say the least. “Can you read it?” He sounds like he might expect I cannot, but like he wants to give me the benefit of doubt. I shake my head. “It is not written in Riverian,” I observe as he takes the book from me. A quick glance at the backs of the nearby books reveals what I was starting to get worried about: it appears most, if not all, books in here are written in this strange language. “It is not,” Calev says as he puts the book back on the shelf. “Human language is isolated, and not commonly used by the rest of the world.” His words seem to imply that there are many languages out here. It should not have come as a surprise, and yet it kind of does. “But you are fluent,” I say defensively as my cheeks heat up. “All of you are.” Calev looks at me, surprised. “Yes, of course,” he says, slowing his tone as if he was speaking to an illiterate person. “It is not like we pretend our language is the [[only one in the world]].” <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> Azar looks down on me. “Well?” His tone is gleeful. Like this was a test, one he expects me to fail. “What does it say?” “I do not know,” I admit reluctantly. “I am only fluent in Riverian, and this is… something else.” “Indeed.” Azar takes the book from me and reads: “//This was how it was in times long past, and this is how it is today: when making a door, whether out of stone or out of wood, you retain the spirit of stone or wood within the door. Thus, doors act not only as physical barriers, but also containers for those spiritual guardians.//” He has a strong voice, well-suited for reading. I can only stare as he puts the book back on the shelf. “Lunarian,” he says and turns back to me. “Written with moon script. The language of humans is isolated, and not commonly used here.” “But you are… fluent,” I say defensively as my cheeks heat up. Azar arches a brow. “Yes,” he says, slowly. As if I was illiterate. “//We// never pretended our language was the [[only one in the world]].” <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> Shai looks at me searchingly. “You are probably not familiar with the moon script?” His voice is not exactly judgemental, but the tone in which the words are said seems to suggest this is the same to him as being fully illiterate. “I am going to assume that is what this is called,” I say and point at the rows. “No. I am only fluent in Riverian.” “Sadly, that will not be useful here.” Shai takes the book gently from me and places it back on the shelf. “The language of humans is isolated. It is not commonly used here.” “But you speak my language,” I say defensively. My cheeks heat up. Shai gives me a surprised look. “Of course,” he says, now slowly. As if I truly //was// illiterate. “//We// never pretended our language was the [[only one in the world]].” <<else>> Selene smiles and tilts her head when she notices me turning. “Can you read this?” I ask and show her the passages. Her smile turns a bit more bashful and she shakes her head. “I cannot read, actually,” she says gently and runs her fingertip over the passages. “But Azar and Shai sometimes read for me.” Calev truly does not seem much like the reading type, so the absence of his name does not surprise me. “Ze’ev does not?” I ask. The representative of the winter season is still a mystery to me. “Or does he not know this language?” “Everyone here knows Lunarian,” Selene says. She takes the book from me and puts it back on the shelf. “And everyone knows how to read the moon script. They know many other languages, too - I think that of all the languages they do know, the human language is the most isolated and least used.” I only know Riverian, or as she refers to it, //the human language//. I never even knew of the existence of other languages - as if Riverian was the [[only one in the world]]. <</if>>

The words make so much sense my shame deepens. It is starting to occur to me that perhaps the werewolves are not as uncivilized as I have been led to believe. The cognitive dissonance is giving me a headache. "Can we go?" I ask. A moment later, we [[head back to the front yard->Shall we]]. <<set $library to true>>

Even without the fancy decorative shoes of my wedding outfit, my feet are starting to get really worn out by walking. My mind and heart are not faring much better: it feels like there is suddenly so much to see, so much to learn, so much unfamiliar and so dangerous I can barely keep up with it all. I push my body and my mind for enough strength to walk back to the Moon Mansion. Soon there will be dinner, perhaps a bath, and then - [[a soft, warm, dry bed]].

As we arrive at the Moon mansion entrance, I notice we are not alone. <<if $storyflag == "spring">> To the right and left of the entrance are two doors I now know to look for, and one of them is open. Inside seems to be a small room, enough space for two people, and two benches at the opposing side. There are darkwood shelves on the walls with basins, towels and even woollen socks. Shai sits on one of these benches, his hands resting on the bench at his sides. His feet are submerged in a wooden basin with steaming warm water, and in front of him, kneeling, fingers wrapped around one of his ankles… I blink and have to do a double take to understand what I am seeing. Azar. Azar is kneeling [[in front of Shai]] and washing his feet. <<elseif $storyflag is "summer">> To the right and left of the entrance are two doors I now know to look for, and one of them is open. Inside seems to be a small room, enough space for two people, and two benches at the opposing side. There are darkwood shelves on the walls with basins, towels and even woollen socks. Shai sits on one of these benches, his hands resting on the bench at his sides. His feet are submerged in a wooden basin with steaming warm water. Without a word and only with a short nod Azar leaves my side and heads over to him. Shai looks up and smiles, and Azar… I blink and have to do a double take to understand what I am seeing. Azar kneels [[in front of Shai]] and starts washing his feet. <<elseif $storyflag == "autumn">> To the right and left of the entrance are two doors I now know to look for, and one of them is open. Inside seems to be a small room, enough space for two people, and two benches at the opposing side. There are darkwood shelves on the walls with basins, towels and even woollen socks. Azar sits on one of these benches. His feet are currently soaking in warm, steaming water, and there is sweat dripping from his forehead. “Ah,” Shai makes a surprised sound, then turns to smile at me apologetically. “Looks like we were not the only ones taking a walk outdoors. If you would like to wash your feet, you can use the room to the right.” As soon as I nod, Shai bows his head and heads over to Azar. They exchange greetings, and Azar dries off his feet, then spreads some sort of salve on them. Shai sits on the other bench. Then Azar is done, and… I blink and have to do a double take to understand what I am seeing. Azar kneels [[in front of Shai]] and starts washing his feet. <<else>> To the right and left of the entrance are two doors I now know to look for, and one of them is open. Inside seems to be a small room, enough space for two people, and two benches at the opposing side. There are darkwood shelves on the walls with basins, towels and even woollen socks. Shai sits on one of these benches, his hands resting on the bench at his sides. His feet are submerged in a wooden basin with steaming warm water, and in front of him, kneeling, fingers wrapped around one of his ankles… I blink and have to do a double take to understand what I am seeing. Azar. Azar is kneeling [[in front of Shai]] and washing his feet. <</if>>

I stare at the sight for a long moment. The way Azar is fully focused on his task, his gentle hands and the way Shai relaxes under his touch suggests this happens often between the two of them. Deeming it best to move before Azar realizes he is being watched, I occupy the free room and wash my feet with warm water, then dry them in soft towels. All the time I keep my eyes on the two. In the way Shai gently brushes his hand against Azar’s shoulder to thank him when they are nearly done. In the way Azar remains gentle and attentive as he dries Shai’s feet, his thumbs caressing over the ankle when he is done. I do not want to be caught spying on them, so I make my way to the dining hall [[before they move]].

Out of habit I start collecting things in a bundle. The young sprouts of nettle, pushing up in groups and patches from the fertile land, full of iron. Dandelion leaves, healthy and crisp, and their flowers, delicious when mixed with honey. Curly ferns, a salty treat for later. On a couple of humble spots I even see waybread leaves and make a note of the places to come back later for their seeds. Every now and then I straighten and look back in the woods, as if I could see my former home, and [[I am allowed to do so uninterrupted]].

I do not dare to talk about the complex feelings I have towards my former home. There is always a chance it will be used against me in some form, and even if I did feel safe enough to do so... How do you put something like that to words? Especially, when there has not been a lot of time to just sit down and think. Or, in this case, walk and think. Sadly, foraging is an excellent way to get your thoughts moving, and mine keep running in circles until [[my hands are full of herbs, roots and flowers]].

[[I wonder if anyone misses me->Shall we]].

Calev is standing at the doorway with an uncharacteristically tense posture. When I approach, he snarls a low warning sound, his eyes staring straight in the room. I flinch and stop at the threshold, turning to see what he is looking at. Selene is in the room, standing next to the table, and holding a bouquet of flowers; a deep, intense shade of blues and purples wrapped with a bright red ribbon. I blink. I recognise those flowers. [[It is a wolfsbane bouquet]].

“There is no sign of the sender,” Selene says and looks at Calev. Her expression, before always so cheerful and bright, is now dimmed in concern. “The servants said this was just brought in by a courier.” “Ze’ev should be informed,” Calev says. He, too, seems suddenly very grim. “This is obviously a threat, and they had the confidence to do this while he is still technically ruling us.” “I will go find him,” Selene promises and takes the bouquet with her. As she rushes past us, I see Calev [[visibly shrink away from them]].

“I take this is a bad sign,” I comment. Calev straightens and looks at me. Little by little his earlier smile returns, even when it now has an air of tentativeness to it. “Well, for the most part, yes,” he admits. We enter the dining hall. I do not detect a particularly strong scent, but Calev marches straight to the windows and opens them wide. “But,” he continues, the wind tousling his hair gently and the afternoon sun making his eyes glow mysteriously, “we are going to have an [[interesting ruling season]], you and me.”

And so, with everything that had happened, without me knowing about all the things that would happen before the next solstice, days started to fly past me until... [[Spring began]].

Thank you for reading the prologue! It will be out on itch.io on the Winter Solstice (21.12), and the next chapter, "Spring", will come out on Spring Equinox (20.3). Please look forward to it!