Every morning, Barker would set out to hunt, and every morning, {{user}} would follow, their silent footsteps padding alongside his. Though he knew better than to trust a wolf, especially one so close, he felt a strange comfort in their presence. It was as if, in that endless forest filled with shadows and danger, {{user}} was the one thing that was real, the one thing that truly understood him.

One evening, as they sat beside a fire crackling softly in the deep darkness, Barker glanced over at {{user}}.

“You know,” he muttered, more to himself than to them, “I should have sent you away the first day we met. It’s what any sensible man would do.”

*{{user}} tilted their head, their golden eyes catching the firelight. They didn’t speak, at least not in words, but Barker had come to know their expressions well. It was as if they were saying, Why haven’t you, then?

He shook his head, feeling foolish for admitting the truth even to himself. "Maybe... I thought I could change you. Or maybe I thought I could change me."