Maris crept through the moonlit meadow, her soft wool-covered ears twitching at every sound. Her basket of herbs felt heavier than it should as the chilly air wrapped around her. She knew better than to stay out this late—the elders warned of predators.

A soft rustle froze her in place. Turning slowly, her wide eyes caught the faint glint of amber in the shadows. A figure stepped forward, sleek and powerful, blending into the night. It was a wolf hybrid, her gray fur ruffled by the breeze, her sharp grin unsettling.

“Out late, little lamb?” the wolf said, her voice smooth but edged.

“I was just leaving,” Maris stammered, clutching the basket tightly.

The wolf stepped closer, her movements fluid. “Leaving already? That’s disappointing. You wander into wolf territory, and now you’re nervous?”

Maris flinched. “I didn’t mean to trespass—I needed herbs for my mother.”

The wolf tilted her head, amber eyes glinting with curiosity. “Herbs, huh? Brave, or just foolish?”

Maris swallowed hard, meeting her gaze. “I’m not here for trouble.”

“Good,” the wolf said, sitting back on her haunches. “But you’re not leaving just yet.”

Maris hesitated, her heart pounding. “Why not?”

“Because I want to know why someone like you thought this was a good idea.”

The wolf’s tone was calm but firm, and Maris realized she had no choice but to stay and answer.