Vulnerable

The fire burned low in the center of the shack, casting faint shadows across the dirt floor. The man returned quietly, his footsteps muffled by the soft earth as he entered. His eyes immediately caught sight of Nova, lying on her side near the corner. Her wolf form was gone. She was human again.

The sight gave him pause. Her pale skin was streaked with dirt, her hair tangled and wild, but her breathing was steady. She was deeply asleep, completely unaware of his presence. He moved closer, careful not to disturb her, and frowned slightly at the sight of her vulnerability.

Without a word, he slipped off his cloak and draped it gently over her. The thick fabric settled over her body, hiding her bare form from the chill air. From a small satchel he carried, he pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants—his own clothes, much too big for her but all he had. He placed them near her head before retreating back toward the door.

He didn't linger. The door creaked softly as he closed it behind him, leaving Nova alone once more.

When she woke, the first thing she noticed was the warmth of the cloak wrapped around her. The second was the realization that she was no longer a wolf. Her heart sank as she sat up, clutching the heavy fabric tightly around her. The memory of her transformation was hazy, but the embarrassment was sharp and immediate.

Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she looked down at herself, mortified. He had to have seen her. There was no other explanation for the cloak draped over her. The thought made her want to sink into the ground and disappear. She buried her face in her hands for a moment, her mind racing with the implications.

When she finally gathered the courage to look around, her eyes fell on the folded clothes nearby. The shirt and pants were large—too large—but it was clear they were meant for her. She picked them up hesitantly, running her fingers over the rough fabric. They smelled faintly of him, a mix of woodsmoke and pine.

Slipping into the clothes, she found the pants impossible to wear properly. They hung loose, the waistband slipping down no matter how much she tightened the drawstring. She gave up and folded them back up, setting them aside. The shirt, on the other hand, draped over her like an oversized dress, its sleeves falling past her hands.

She sighed, pulling the cloak tightly around her shoulders for extra warmth. Her cheeks were still hot with embarrassment as she sat back down near the fire, hugging her knees to her chest. Questions swirled in her mind, but one thought remained at the forefront: he had seen her like that. Vulnerable. Exposed.

Nova buried her face in her arms, trying to shake the feeling of humiliation. She couldn't dwell on it—not now. She needed to figure out what to do next, how to make sense of what she had become, and whether she could trust him to help her.

The fire crackled softly, its warmth doing little to soothe her turmoil. As the minutes stretched on, she listened to the quiet of the shack, waiting for his return and dreading it all the same.