Chapter 7: Step foward
From the deep recession of my mind, something calls me back.
It isn’t gentle. It isn’t a whisper in the dark or a slow unraveling of awareness. It is a sharp, unrelenting pull, dragging me up from the depths where I have hidden.
My wolf stirs before I do. She has been in control for so long, too long, guarding me from my own grief. She does not want to let go.I feel the hesitation in my limbs as I wake, the reluctance in the way my mind claws at the edges of consciousness.
The world outside my den has moved on, yet I have remained frozen. Suspended in sorrow, in heartbreak, in a bond that no longer has an anchor.
I inhale deeply, the scent of damp earth, tree bark, and old memories filling my lungs. It is grounding, familiar, but today it does not soothe me.
For the first time in weeks, I feel the weight of it all pressing against my chest, forcing me forward.I stir, my ears flicking at the distant sounds of the forest. My paws flex against the cool, damp ground of the den, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I shift my weight.
Slowly, painfully, I move.
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The den has always been my sanctuary.
It sits nestled beside my family’s house, hidden beneath the roots of a massive old tree, part underground, part woven into the earth itself.
A place built for quiet moments. A place where I have always felt safe.It was Mum’s sanctuary too.
She and I used to shift and hide away here together, curled up in the dark, letting the world pass us by. When the sun was too bright, when the weight of expectations felt too much, this was where we retreated.