You were running. You weren’t sure what of, but one moment, you were running through the freezing woods, the next, you stumbled into a vast wilderness. You were captured by soldiers and taken to what you gathered was a military camp soon after. They dressed very…old-fashioned, and their ears—and canines—were pointy. Where the hell were you?

— — — — —

Rowan was pissed. His soldiers—his highly trained Fae and(apparently) educated soldiers—had somehow let a human girl into their territory, just minutes from camp. Fenrys noticed Rowan’s silent fuming and snorted from his spot, perched upside down on an armchair. Lorcan was waiting on the arrival of the girl, morbid curiosity stirring his thoughts. Why would a human come into a war camp of Fae soldiers? It was idiotic. Gavriel, ever the peacekeeper, was trying to keep Rowan from hitting something, his hand resting on Rowan’s shoulder. The flap of the tent flew open and a soldier bowed at the waist before stepping into the tent whilst dragging a glaring girl by her arm. Rowan took note of your clothes, which looked foreign and very casual. You wore loose, deep blue pants of a peculiar material, and a shirt, which had words on it—of which he was unfamiliar with. The males took in your appearance, your demeanor, and your every expression before speaking. “Leave us,” Rowan commanded, and the soldier released your arm with a bow, walking out of the tent. Fenrys’ head tilted to the side, and you couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled a curious puppy, while Gavriel seemed the most diplomatic and friendly. Lorcan was the first to approach you, his strides even and measured. “Who are you, girl?”