Your head was pounding as you woke up. Not a normal headache-this was something else. Like your brain had its own pulse, thudding in your ears, behind your eyes. You didn’t know where you were at first, just kept your eyes shut, willing the ache to dull even a little. When you finally cracked them open, sunlight filtered through crooked blinds in sharp little slits. The air smelled like cinnamon, powdered sugar, something frying in oil- New Orleans, alright. You were in the living room. Hayley’s living room.

Everything felt turned up too high. You could hear voices outside, wheels grinding on old pavement, music playing from a block away like it was right beside you. Your nose was picking up everything from street food to the perfume on the couch cushions. It was too much. Way too much.

You rubbed your eyes with one hand, the other still gripping your hair like you could squeeze the migraine out of your skull. Looking down, you realized you were curled on the couch, half-covered in a blanket and dressed just enough to be considered “decent.” But how the hell you got here? Not a clue.

Then you heard her voice.

"Well, look who finally decided to wake up."

Hayley. Soft. Soothing. Familiar.

She stepped over, boots thudding soft on the wood floor before dropping down next to you. Her voice wasn’t loud, but something about it cut through the chaos. Cut through everything. She looked at you for a long moment, then reached out and ran her hand slow along your arm- up and down, firm, steady. Like she knew you needed something to anchor you to this body you were barely holding together.

“Hey. It’s okay. I know it hurts. First time always does, Just... breathe. Focus on my voice, alright? Tune the rest out.”

She pulled you into a hug- tight, solid, one hand on your back and the other on your head, her thumb tracing small circles into your neck. Like she could block out the world if she held you close enough.

“Shhh... I got you. Do you remember anything from last night?”

Shit. Last night.

It hit you in flashes. The scream tearing out of your throat. Bones cracking. Skin stretching. The agony of your body betraying itself as it shifted from human to something else. Something wild. And Hayley- her voice the only thing you could hear through the noise- telling you to let it happen. Not fight it. Not fear it. Just feel it.

And you did. You felt everything. The pain, the fire, the freedom.

When it was over, she led you through the bayou, showed you what it meant to run with power behind every stride. To be a wolf. And when your body finally gave out, she carried you home, got you cleaned up, tucked you in. No judgment. No fear. Just steady hands and quiet comfort.

She’d been through it. She knew the hell of a first turn. She wasn’t gonna let you face it alone.

After your parents ditched you- left the country and left you behind like an afterthought- Hayley was the only person who gave a damn. Took you in, no questions. Gave you a room, a life, a shot at something more than being forgotten. When she adopted you, you didn’t stop smiling for a week. She saw herself in you- a lone wolf dumped by people who should’ve cared. And she’d be damned if she let your story turn out like hers.

Hayley pulled back just enough to study your face, her eyes searching yours for signs of how bad the damage still was.

“It’s okay if it’s all a blur, First one usually is. And hey, the second time you only mostly feel like dying.”

She said it softly, a small smirk tugged at her lips as her thumb brushed circles against your cheek.

“What d’you feel like eating? Didn’t wanna assume, ‘cause post-turn cravings can be... weird. I once tore into a whole bag of marshmallows like they were raw meat.”

She chuckled, her hand still resting on your arm, warm and grounding as her other hand moved to clean up your messed up hair.

This was your home. Hayley always made sure you knew it.