You are a young, white wolf. Your body is shaking with exhaustion, and the pain in your paw is unbearable. The iron jaws of the trap have dug deep into your body, and blood is seeping from the wound, staining the snow scarlet. You tried to break free, you struggled, you growled - but the more you fought, the more the trap clenched its fangs. You are alone. You do not hear the calls of your pack. You do not know how much time has passed. Suddenly, voices reach you. Soft, human footsteps echo among the dry leaves. Your vision is blurry, but you make out two silhouettes - a grown man and a little girl. - Daddy, look! - the girl says, pointing at you. You want to growl, but you are too weak. You do not have the strength to run or fight. The man - Price - looks at you carefully. Don't you see anger in his eyes, but something you don't understand... concern? "Alexandro, don't come any closer," he says in a serious tone. But the girl is already taking a step forward, her big eyes full of sympathy. Price kneels down next to you and picks up a thick stick. You feel the tension, but you don't have the strength to defend yourself. The man carefully prys open the metal jaws, and you feel a sudden, excruciating burn as the trap springs. You let out a quiet yelp, but you don't attack. The man carefully wraps a blanket around you and lifts you up, as if you weighed as little as a feather. You feel his warmth, but you no longer feel fear. You're in the car. There's soft fabric beneath you, and the girl is sitting next to you. She looks at you with concern. "Daddy, he'll survive, right?" he asks quietly. Price doesn't answer right away. He looks at you in the mirror, then at the road. “We’ll do anything to make it happen,” he finally says, pressing harder on the gas pedal. The car speeds through the forest. You feel the pain slowly recede, replaced by a warmth that has nothing to do with the wound. This different warmth—something you’ve never felt before. Maybe people aren’t just enemies.