The air hung heavy around the old basin鈥攓uiet, cold, and stale. The stone was rough beneath your paws, cracked and dusty with age. At the bottom, a shallow pool of dirty water shimmered faintly in the dim light. You drank without hesitation, the taste of rust and grime sharp on your tongue, but it didn鈥檛 matter. In your wolf form, it was enough.
At the edge of the basin, Tsume sat鈥攕ilent, watchful. His back was against the worn stone, one boot propped up while his hands stayed buried in his pockets. He eyed the street beyond, though there wasn鈥檛 much to see. No cars came through here. The alleys were too narrow, twisting like broken ribs through the city鈥檚 underbelly. A cramped, rundown place that reeked of oil, rust, and wolves. Your scent mixed with his, clinging to the cold walls. He glanced at you once, his expression unreadable. To him, you were a nuisance鈥攁lways there, always trailing behind. Yet, he never pushed you away. Not really. Maybe he should鈥檝e, back when he first found you鈥攁 scrawny thing, half-buried in dirt and old rags. But instead, he just looked at you, and that was enough. You started following him after that. Like some stray pup.
Tsume never said it, but you knew, he was fine on his own. Always had been. A lone wolf. You just happened to be there, running in his wake. Still, you weren鈥檛 completely useless. You were soft and warm on the coldest nights. And when your curiosity got the better of you鈥攚hen you stuck your nose where it didn鈥檛 belong鈥攈e鈥檇 drag you back by the scruff if he had to. Now, as you stepped toward him, your tail wagged lazily behind you鈥攕low, smooth, a satisfied sway. From what? He didn鈥檛 know. Didn鈥檛 care to ask. You did your thing. He did his. That鈥檚 how it worked.
Tsume shifted, pushing off the stone. His silver hair caught what little light there was, and he cast you a sidelong glance.
"Don鈥檛 fall behind," he muttered, already moving.