Emma awoke warm and comfortable. She stretched beneath the thick woolen blankets, her body sinking deeper into the soft feather mattress, and sighed. Bright light poured in through an open entryway and onto the clean stone walls of the cave.
Wait, a cave?!
She sat bolt upright. The blankets fell, and she realized she was still naked. She clutched one around herself, breathlessly scanning the room. A smoldering fire crackled in the hearth, and the air smelled of smoke and pinewood. A pile of furs lay at the foot of the bed.
Emma gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth, stopping cold.
The furs are breathing!
She sat statue-still for a moment, then very slowly raised herself up for a closer look.
The direwolf’s fur was white as snow, threaded with silver that shimmered in the morning sun. Its huge chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths. She leaned even closer, hoping to see its head, but it was curled up and facing away from her.
It must still be asleep…
She relaxed a little.
Then memories of the night before came flooding back. The orcs. Being snatched from her bed, stripped, and carried off into the night. The captain looming over her…
And the direwolf.
She looked to the cave entrance, ahead of her and to the left. Sliding carefully off the bed, she pulled the blanket with her and wrapped it around herself like a cloak. She tiptoed toward the open door, watching the direwolf for any sign of movement. When its head finally came into view, she saw that it was clean—no trace of blood remained around its muzzle.
Wait, did I want to see the blood?
That’s stupid…
The direwolf’s ear twitched, and Emma caught herself smiling.
She let out a slow, careful breath.
Does… the direwolf live here?
Her eyes drifted back to the hearth.
Even if it does, the direwolf didn’t make that fire…
The idea that someone else lived in the cave—a someone else who could return at any moment—was not one that she liked. Then she scolded herself.
Tsk. This is fine!
Not ideal, obviously—but fine.
I woke up safe. Unhurt. In a comfortable bed.
I should be grateful to whoever this person is for rescuing me.
Emma let out a sigh of relief. She glanced again at the sleeping direwolf. The imposing beast that had frightened her only moments ago now seemed almost reassuring. She continued tiptoeing, deciding it would be unkind to wake the creature.
A few steps later, she spotted a cup and pitcher of water on the table. Emma poured herself a drink. The water was cool and fresh, as though it had only just been drawn from a stream. She drank another cup, then a third, only realizing how thirsty she’d been once the pitcher was empty. She paused to catch her breath, looking around the cave again from this new vantage point.
It was spacious—nearly the size of her room at the castle. More than that, it was inviting.
Clean.
Lived-in.
The space felt at ease with itself, and, somehow, so did Emma.
There were tall shelves filled with books.
Oh, so whoever lives here is cultured…
And there were tools.
Perhaps a craftsman or laborer of some kind?
Flowers grew beneath the kitchen window.
Windows!
The shutters were closed, but the space would be even brighter when they were opened. Finely woven reed mats covered the floor, and—
Is that a rug?!
The rug sprawled across the common space between the entryway, the kitchen, and the bed.
And the direwolf was looking at her.
The rug was a deep crimson and contrasted nicely with the—
OH.
She froze and stared into the amber-gold of the direwolf’s eyes. It didn’t move.
It blinked.
She blinked.
“I… hello?” she said hesitantly.
The direwolf slowly rose to its full height—head nearly reaching her shoulders.
Gods, it’s big…
The direwolf closed its eyes, lowered its head, and stretched. It opened its mouth wide in a yawn, revealing enormous teeth, shook the sleep from itself, and padded over to a chest on the far side of the room. The beast turned to look at Emma, raising a paw and scratching at the chest. It waited a moment, watching her. Then it turned again and slowly walked out of the cave, leaving her alone.
Emma took a moment to steady herself, then followed in the wolf’s steps to the entryway. She squinted in the summer sun, raising a hand to her face to shield her eyes. Looking outside, she saw… trees.
Brilliant discovery, Emma; forests do, in fact, contain trees.
Beyond the door, the cave wall sloped away, opening onto a meadow of grass and colorful wildflowers, waving in the breeze. As she scanned the meadow, Emma caught a brief glimpse of the direwolf loping along a footpath down the hill toward the treeline.
She stepped back inside and turned her attention to the chest the beast had shown her. Emma crossed the cave and opened it. Inside was clothing—women’s clothing.
“Whaaat?”
The garments, though a little musty, looked to be about her size.
And fashionable.
Well, great. Now I’m conflicted…
Whose clothes are these?
And how did the direwolf get them?
Unless—gods, I love these riding trousers—unless the direwolf is eating women my size and bringing their clothes back here… which seems very unlikely…
…then these clothes belong to…
…whoever lives here.
She paused.
She smiled, laughing softly in her relief.
The cave belongs to a woman!
Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!
She quickly assembled an outfit: a pair of trousers and a red blouse. There were no shoes.
I don’t know if this situation would be more or less strange if I’d found shoes—and beggars can’t be choosers.
Dressed to impress, Emma took a breath and strode out of the cave. She shielded her eyes again from the late-morning sun and followed the trail the direwolf had taken beyond the trees at the foot of the hill.
She drank in the smell of flowers and the hum of bees as she went. The ground was hard against her bare soles, but she quickly learned to walk on the balls of her feet instead of her heels—so different from the careful steps required by court shoes. The warmth of the sun brought a light sweat to her neck and shoulders beneath her long auburn hair.
As the trail began to level out, she heard the sound of rushing water. A moment later, rounding a stand of trees, she saw the direwolf sitting on a patch of grass beside a clear river. Emma wasn’t sure how it would notice her—sound, scent, or something else entirely—so she decided it was safer to announce herself.
A direwolf—even a tame one—might still react poorly if startled.
“Hullo!” she called.
The white wolf, shimmering even brighter outdoors, turned its head to look at her. It made no sound and did not rise. It simply sat and calmly observed Emma’s approach.
Emma took a deep breath and walked boldly toward the beast. When she reached it, she sat beside it in the grass. She relaxed and dropped her shoulders as the cool air around the river washed over her. The water before her was so pure and clear that she could easily see the rocks and grass of the riverbed below. Fish swam against the current, and sunlight flashed off their scales. Birds sang somewhere in the trees above them, the only sound aside from the rushing water.
She turned to the direwolf beside her. As she did so, the wolf turned to look at her. Emma stared again into its amber eyes. There was intelligence there—more than she had realized before.
“I… you probably can’t understand me,” she began. “I had hoped to find the woman who lives with you here so I could thank her. But it doesn’t matter…”
She smiled.
“Thank you, direwolf. For watching over me. For these clothes. And—if it was you last night—thank you for saving me.”
Then, moved in ways she hadn’t expected, Emma did a very brave thing: she reached out slowly and touched the soft white fur of the beast’s neck.
She held her breath.
The wolf did not pull away.
Instead, it closed its eyes.
Emma laughed, nervously at first. Then she began to scratch its neck.
The wolf lifted its head. Its hind leg began to thump.
That was all the encouragement she needed. Using both hands, she scratched more vigorously. The beast’s leg bounced more and more until it nearly toppled over. She withdrew her hands and the creature stood and shook itself contentedly.
“Oh, you’re such a good wolfie!” she said with a smile.
The direwolf edged cautiously toward Emma until its nose was only a few inches from her face. She waited, no longer fearing any danger from the beast.
For a moment, they simply stared into each other’s eyes.
And then the wolf licked Emma’s lips.
“Pbbbt!” she sputtered, laughing as she wiped her mouth. “Ack! Aww, you’re a sweet—” she took a quick look, “—boy! Good boy!”
The direwolf reached out with one paw, tentative.
He tapped the ground.
Then again.
Emma frowned.
“What do you—? Ground? Grass? …Here?”
The wolf whined.
She blinked.
“Here… Oh! Stay! You want me to stay?”
The direwolf turned in a quick circle and gave a small huff.
“Okay!” Emma said excitedly. “I can stay!”
Her brow furrowed in thought as she considered what was happening.
“Wait, why am I staying…?”
The wolf, of course, gave no answer. He turned and trotted toward the nearest tree. Reaching it, he stopped and looked back at her. Emma was confused—but excited to have found a way to communicate with the beast. She stayed where she was, watching him carefully. He turned again and slipped behind the trunk, disappearing entirely.
Emma shifted anxiously as she watched the tree. When the wolf didn’t immediately reappear, she began to look around.
Did I miss him?
She took a breath and steadied herself.
Don’t be clingy, Emma…
He’s watched over you this long, he’s not going to abandon you now.
A patch of white fur slipped into view from behind the tree.
Emma exhaled in relief.
“Whoo, you had me worried there for a—”
She stopped.
The fur moved, but it wasn’t just fur anymore.
A shoulder.
An arm.
A young man stepped out from behind the tree.
“Hiii…” he said, giving a small, awkward wave.
