Page 23 of Wolf Proclaimed

Mira

Even before the first light of dawn broke, my eyes were wide open. I lay there in the dimly lit cabin, listening to Bastian's deep, even breathing next to me. The steady rhythm was both comforting and alien, a strange, unintentional lullaby that tugged at memories that were no longer mine.

With the caution of a doe stepping onto an uncertain path, I slipped from beneath the covers, my movements slow and deliberate. The cabin's wooden floor was cool under my bare feet, the chilly morning air causing goosebumps to scatter across my skin.

Quietly, I padded toward the cabin's entrance, careful not to disturb Bastian. My mind was a whirl of thoughts, each circling back to the same unfamiliar terrain — who was I, and why couldn't I remember anything?

As I stepped outside, the early morning mist clung to the forest, a ghostly shroud that danced between the trees. The world was still asleep, and I was an intruder in its tranquility. My heart ached to run, to disappear into the woods until I could make sense of my life.

The village gate loomed ahead, a silent sentinel guarding the boundary of my known world. Behind it lay the wild forest, dense and intimidating. I hesitated, my wolf’s instinct urging me to get lost in its familiar embrace. But my human side reeled, gripping onto the only shred of familiarity I had—Bastian’s territory.

My fingers curled around the cold metal of the gate. I glanced back at the cabin, its silhouette a dark shadow against the gray morning. It was where I belonged, yet it felt as strange as a land forgotten. Everything was hazy, a blur of confusing emotions and unplaceable faces. I was stuck in this strange in-between, straddling two worlds, neither of which I recognized.

Exhaling deeply, I unlatched the gate and darted into the forest. Despite my longing to escape my own turmoil, I found it impossible to outrun the confusion and fear that relentlessly gnawed at my psyche. There was no safe haven, no anchoring memory to ground me. My previous life had been wiped clean like a blank slate, and I was aimlessly adrift, floating in a vast ocean of uncertainty.

My feet found a rhythm against the forest floor, each step echoing through the silent woods. The world outside Bastian's territory was a strange, disorienting wilderness. But amid the fear, a thought floated to the surface. I wanted to run. Not from something, but for the sheer joy of it, for the exhilarating rush of wind in my face and the liberating pulse of adrenaline in my veins. But as a human, I felt out of place, alien.

With that realization, I paused. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I turned my face to the sky. The thin morning light filtered through the trees, dappling the forest floor with shifting patterns. I took a deep breath, the fresh scent of pine needles and damp earth filling my lungs.

Then, with a surrendering sigh, I let go. The shift overtook me, my body twisting and reshaping with a familiar, primal urge. My senses heightened, and the world around me became more vivid and alive. The forest, which seemed so alien just moments ago, embraced me like a long-lost child.

In my wolf form, everything felt right. This body, this nature, fit like a second skin. The confusion and fear swirling in my human mind seemed to retreat, replaced by the wolf's instinctive certainty. I was no longer a stranger in my own body; I was one with the world around me.

With a joyful howl, I plunged deeper into the forest. My paws pounded the undergrowth, the rhythm resonating with my heart. I ran, the wind whipping through my fur; the forest was alive with the music of rustling leaves and twittering birds.

Every bound, every breath, was an assertion of my wolf nature. I was a part of this world, a creature of the wild. The anxieties of my human form, questions, and the void were left behind. This was my reality, my solace.

The run was cathartic, an outlet for the swirling storm of emotions holding me captive. I was alone in the forest, my human troubles far away. I was just Mira, the wolf, living in the present, unfettered by a forgotten past or an uncertain future.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the forest floor, I found my way back to the village gate. Exhausted but satisfied, I let my wolf form melt away, my human body returning. The experience was profound, a necessary release, a revelation of my true self.

As I reentered the world of humans, the anxieties returned, the memories still frustratingly out of reach. But the memory of the run, the freedom, and the rightness of my wolf form, gave me a sense of peace. A part of me, at least, knew where it belonged.

With a deep breath, I pushed open the gate, the metallic creak sounded in the quiet evening air. The village was coming alive, the usual sounds of evening routines reaching my ears. The aroma of cooking wafted from homes, children's laughter echoed from the fields, and conversations hummed from the local tavern.

As I walked deeper into the village, heads began to turn, recognition and surprise flashing across faces. People I didn't remember knowing seemed to know me, their expressions shifting between relief and worry.

"Mira!" A stout woman rushed towards me, her apron stained with flour and face flushed from the hearth's heat. I didn't recognize her, yet she hugged me with the familiarity of a close friend.

"We were worried sick about you," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Bastian had us all out looking..."

"I...I went for a run," I replied, my voice weak, trying to sound like I remembered her. But the confusion was there, lurking behind my smile.

The woman nodded, her eyes still clouded with concern. "Well, as long as you're alright..."

The encounters continued. Each face a blank slate, yet their concern for me was genuine. The gaping hole in my memory swallowed their names, their histories, and our shared experiences. But I faked smiles, nodded, and offered vague responses, hoping they didn't see through my facade.

A knot of guilt and sadness coiled in my stomach. To these people, I was their friend, family, and someone they cared for. And to me, they were strangers.

After a series of strained conversations and hastily crafted excuses, I managed to retreat, my feet leading me back to the cabin I was supposed to call home. The village, the people, and the life they claimed I had all felt like a puzzle, its pieces too alien and disjointed to fit together.

But as I walked, a thought lingered. Despite the confusion, the void in my memory, a thread held me here, a sense of belonging that my wolf nature recognized. I didn't remember these people, this life, but part of me...part of me felt like it belonged. It was a small comfort in a sea of uncertainty.

The concern etched on the villagers' faces was a mirror that reflected a version of myself I didn't remember. As I sat alone in the cabin, their voices rang in my ears, their words painting a picture of a Mira that was a stranger to me. Their relief on my return, their shared worry, and the subtle, cautious way they interacted with me; all pointed toward one heartbreaking realization: I must have been a significant problem for everyone.

This revelation washed over me like a cold tide, chilling and unforgiving. What had I done? Why did I inspire such concern? The uncertainty, the unplaced guilt clawed at me, leaving me feeling raw and exposed.

The creak of the door broke the cabin's silence as night fell. Bastian walked in, his silhouette framed against the soft moonlight. His gaze fell on me, a mix of relief and worry in his eyes. I looked at him, my heart aching with a thousand questions.

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