As I wandered, my mind drifted to Poppy. I hoped he was okay. A lot of the things he said made me suspicious, but I didn’tunderstand why. It wasn’t thathewas untrustworthy—I believed everything that came out of his sweet little mouth—but he was dodgy about answering certain questions, and acted like a ghost was about to pop out and scare the shit out of him at all times. He was a wolf. Wolves were supposed to be brave, noble, and strong. So, what was scaring my wolf?
I shook my head and snorted. He wasn’tmywolf. The closest thing I had to a wolf of my own was Wolfy, tucked safely away in my satchel.
A fluttering of wings caught my attention. I watched a snowy owl land gracefully in a shadowed crag. I grinned when I saw the nest full of eggs. Soon the owl would be coughing up half-digested lemmings for her babies.
So gross. But so cute,I thought.
I was grateful that dragonets were quick to eat real food. Not that I’d have to deal with that until I found my mate. My heart swirled excitedly at the idea. I wasn’t ready now, but one day.
Smiling, I turned away, ready to continue up the slope, when I suddenly heard a choked sob.
I froze.
That voice didn’t belong to an owl.
My gaze swivelled towards the owl’s nest. As my eyes adjusted to the shadows, I saw it—a large pale shape clustered in the furthest depths of the crag. As my brain made sense of it, my jaw dropped.
“Poppy?” I blurted.
He gasped, then silenced his crying.
A strange panic washed over me. I padded closer, hurrying towards him, but I didn’t want to frighten the owl, either. I flattened my large body to the ground and tried not to look threatening.
“Hey, uh, I don’t want to hurt you,” I mumbled, as if the bird could understand me. “I just want to see that... wolf behind your nest.”
The words sounded deranged when I spoke them out loud. Thankfully, the owl didn’t seem to care. She blinked at me with yellow eyes, then settled peacefully on top of her eggs. They disappeared into her chest fluff and she fell asleep.
I took her acceptance as an invitation to crawl closer. Careful not to bump her, I pushed my head into the crag. The crawlspace was too small for me, but Poppy had somehow squeezed all the way inside.
His beautiful white fur was an unkempt mess. It was scruffy and smeared with dirt from the walls. It obviously hadn’t been groomed in days. He looked scrawnier than normal, with ribs poking out his sides, and his face was drawn and haggard. He looked terrified and exhausted.
“Poppy?” I cried. “What the hell happened?”
Tears streamed down Poppy’s cheeks. He hiccupped as he saw me, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “Violet...?”
I didn’t know what to ask first. There was so much going on.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I demanded.
He sniffled as he angled his ears towards the owl. “She’s... she’s such a good mother!” he bawled, voice breaking halfway through.
I stared, agape and confused. I didn’t understand why he was crying.
“Yeah, she is,” I agreed. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
He nodded miserably. “It’s the best. It’s the best thing ever...” His forehead slumped against the hard ground. “I wish I was an owl...”
I blinked in total confusion. He wasn’t making sense, but he was obviously suffering. It hurt to see him like this.
“Poppy, come here,” I urged. “Let’s get you out of this crag. We can talk outside in the fresh air.”
“I can’t,” he whimpered.
“Why?”
His voice snapped like a twig. “I can’t leave! I can’t go back. Please, don’t make me. Just leave me here. I promise I won’t cause any more trouble...”
My stomach flipped. I’d never witnessed somebody in such raw despair. Whatever was bothering him, it was worse than I imagined. Something was deeply wrong.
