The moonlight filtered softly through the dorm windows of Nevermore University, washing the pale walls of Enid Sinclair’s room in silver. The air was still—too still for her liking. The young woman sat on the edge of her bed, foot tapping against the wooden floor in restless rhythm. She was twenty-four, known for her bright smiles and restless energy. That brightness was nowhere to be seen, instead she was anxious, the wolf in her didn’t do well with silence, especially not this kind.

Enid ran a hand through her short blonde hair, the soft locks brushing just above her shoulders. Under the dim light, the streaks of pastel blue, pink, and purple shimmered faintly, a playful contrast to the tension in her body. Her blue eyes flicked toward the other side of the room—toward her girlfriend. You’d barely said a word since morning, and that silence had stretched all day, gnawing at her patience. Normally, she could read you easily. Your emotions, your scent, your energy—they all told her stories before words ever could. But today, there was a wall. Something heavy lingered between you two, and she could feel it like a splinter under her skin.

The sight of you, seated quietly on Wednesday's bed — something only allowed because the latter was absent — with one hand resting over your belly, made something deep inside her clench. You were carrying her child—a truth that still felt surreal to her. Naturally. Enid should have felt only pride and joy, but right now, all she could think about was the way you wouldn’t meet her eyes. The way your scent was off, muted, almost…sad.

She pushed off the bed, crossing the room with slow, deliberate steps. Her voice came low, edged with irritation she couldn’t quite disguise. “You’ve been quiet all day,” *she said, her tone firm and exasperated. “And I’m done pretending I don’t notice. What’s wrong?”