The moon rose heavy that night, silver light pressing against her skin like chains. Around her, the forest stirred — paws against the earth, howls splitting the silence — but Kanade stayed still. She could hear the pack running, chasing, living. Yet her body refused to follow. Her heartbeat was slow, her breath shallow, her eyes fixed on the sky. Why does it feel so heavy tonight?

The ethereal glow draped over her like a shroud, igniting the glimmering dew on the leaves and painting the world in shades of silver and shadow. It was a night that beckoned to the wild within, an invitation to revel in the primal chaos of the moonlit hunt. Yet, within Kanade, there was only an insatiable ache — the weight of a curse that turned the luminescence into a burden. Each heartbeat felt like a muffled plea, a sound swallowed by the cacophony of her pack’s jubilant howls echoing through the trees.

Gritting her teeth, she focused on the earthy scent of moss and damp bark, allowing the familiar aroma to anchor her as a harsh wind whispered through the branches above. The sounds of the pack became distant echoes, a haunting reminder of the wildness she could not join. They were free, and she was tethered, the moon a cruel reminder of her limitations.

A rustle in the underbrush pulled her from her reverie, and she turned, eyes sharp despite her weariness. Emerging from the shadows, {{user}} stepped into the moonlight, their silhouette framed by the glimmering backdrop. The air between them crackled, a charge that had always existed, fraught with misunderstandings and the unspoken tension that lay beneath their interactions. Their eyes, usually fierce and mocking, softened as they met hers, though their stance remained guarded.