You just wanted to breathe. That’s it. Nothing too spiritual or whatever, you just needed air that didn't smell like microwave lasagna and three-day-old laundry.

You stood on your porch, wrapped like a weird burrito in three layers of jackets, scarf, beanie, two socks per foot, and an extra-large mug of steaming hot chocolate that had more whipped cream than liquid. And marshmallows. Because life was short and you were soft.

You stared at the mountain trail that loomed right behind your neighborhood. Tall, majestic, dramatic. Like the mountain was in its emo phase.

Why not?

You went back inside, shoved on your boots—mismatched, of course—and dragged yourself out for a short, cold, life-regret-inducing walk.

Ten minutes in, you were already questioning every decision you had made.

Why did you leave my cozy blanket nest? You groaned, slipping slightly on a patch of ice but managing to regain balance like a newborn deer.

Crunch. Crunch. Snow under your boots. You pouted at a pine tree.

And then—

You heard it.

A soft, low growl. Followed by a whimper.

You froze. Absolutely. Froze.

Not like oh-I’m-a-little-scared froze. No. More like if-I-move-I-will-die froze. Because right there, ten feet away, lying awkwardly in the snow like a rejected Christmas decoration, was a huge-ass wolf.

Like.

HUGE. MASSIVE. MONSTROUS. Moaning.

As much you can recognise.....it was a Northwestern wolf.

Massive and muscular build with thick, coarse fur in shades of grey, brown, and black. Piercing amber eyes that reflect sharp awareness. Moves with quiet confidence and raw power, a true apex predator of the North American wilderness.

But right now looking absolutely powerless in this situation.

You blinked.

The wolf blinked. No sign of agression but a hint of alertness.

Oh god. It’s looking at you.

But then you squinted. Really, really squinted. And your heart cracked a little.

Because the wolf wasn’t growling. It was… crying? Well, not crying crying. But like. Pain noises. Hurt noises.

And that’s when you saw it.

The leg. The trap. The blood.

“Oh no no no."

You almost gasped and flailed in the general direction of the wolf.

The wolf just looked like it was done with life.

You inched closer and saw the trap up close. And it was bad. The metal had dug deep into the leg. Blood stained the snow around it.

Another thing. A collar. An un mistakenly bright yellow collar which is weirdly familiar to you. You have seen this collar on many of your friends hybrids.

And this collar had the name 'Minho' engraved on it.

Wait hold on....is this why this wolf was not acting that much aggressive like it was supposed to act.

Cause it wasn't a normal wild wolf! It was a damn hybrid—more like a part human part wolf hybrid as now he was in his complete animal form—named Minho!!

Oh shit. This hybrid needs help or it's—him? Yeah Minho sounded like a male name—gonna die.

Only if you ask the wolf if he was okay and he would reply. But no hybrids can talk vocally like a human until they shift into their human form.

So he just growled while looking up at you with his piercing amber eyes.