The afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across Simon’s driveway as he parked the car. In the passenger seat, I adjusted my jacket, taking a slow, calming breath. Simon had talked endlessly about his dogs, painting a picture of two fiercely loyal, impeccably trained German Shepherds who were basically giant, furry angels.

"Don't worry" Simon said, reading the slight tension in my shoulders as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "They’re going to love you. Just be cool, let them sniff, and you'll be fine."

"I'm cool. Totally cool" I lied, offering a tight smile. I liked dogs, but fully grown German Shepherds were imposing animals, especially when you were meeting them on their own turf for the very first time.

Simon unlocked the front door and pushed it open. Before the threshold was even cleared, a streak of midnight black burst into the hallway.

"Whoa, hey there!" Simon laughed.

It was Lupa. She was breathtaking a young, solid-black German Shepherd with sleek, glossy fur and intelligent, amber eyes. True to Simon’s word, she was impeccably trained; she didn't jump, but her tail was wagging with such ferocious speed that her entire back half was wiggling.

"This is Lupa" Simon introduced, stepping aside. Lupa immediately zeroed in on me. I crouched down cautiously, holding out the back of my hand. Lupa rushed forward, pressing her cold nose against my knuckles, inhaling deeply. Satisfied with whatever scent she gathered, she let out a soft huff, planted her front paws on my knees, and started licking my chin with enthusiastic, unabashed affection.

"Well, it looks like you've been approved by the queen" Simon chuckled, sounding thoroughly delighted. "She usually takes a minute to warm up to strangers."

"Hey girl, hey" I giggled, scratching behind her velvety ears. My nerves instantly melted away. If Lupa was this sweet, the second dog must be a breeze.

"Feryn! Come say hi, sweetie" Simon called out toward the living room. From the dim corridor leading to the back of the house, a second shape emerged. Feryn was the classic black-and-tan color of her breed, slightly older and built like a tank. But unlike Lupa’s bounding confidence, Feryn moved like a ghost. Her head was held low, her tail tucked tightly against her hind legs, and her ears pinned flat back against her skull.

"It's okay, Feryn. Come on" Simon coaxed gently, lowering his voice to a soothing register.

Feryn stopped a few feet away, trembling slightly. Her eyes were wide, the whites showing around the edges, darting nervously between Simon, me, and Lupa, who was now sitting proudly by my side.

"She's just a bit shy" Simon explained, taking a half-step forward. "She had a rough start before I rescued her, and new people make her anxious. Just stay still, let her come to—"

Snap.

It happened in a fraction of a second. The sudden shifting of my weight, the creak of the floorboard, or perhaps just the overwhelming sensory terror of a stranger in her safe space pushed Feryn past her breaking point. A panicked yelp tore from her throat, and she lunged forward not out of aggression, but out of blind, startled defense.

Her teeth grazed my forearm. I gasped, pulling my arm back instinctively. Feryn scrambled backward in the exact same millisecond, colliding with the wall with a dull thud, before bolting down the hallway and disappearing into the back room.

Silence descended on the entryway, save for Lupa, who let out a confused whine and nudged my hand again, as if checking to see if I was okay. I stared down at my arm. There was no blood, just a dull, stinging crescent-shaped impression and a damp smudge of saliva through the fabric of my sleeve.