The Wolf of the Wilds

The Quarrel

The sun woke her.

Peeking through the windows and creeping along the floorboards, the crisp morning light decided to make its entrance. Helena had her head resting on her paws, lazily watching the dying embers that still sat in the fireplace from the night before. Only when the blanket became too constrictive, her muscles aching to move, did she get up.

Stretching out her legs and curling her back, she shook out the remaining fatigue in her body. With a yawn, she shifted, grimacing through the light streaks of pain. She'd been making an effort to shift more regularly, but the ache was still there as she stood on two feet. She was very aware that she currently looked like a gorgon, her hair flying about with no kind of order.

"Mhmm." She extended her arms above her head and then slapped her cheeks lightly. Refreshed and mildly more prepared for the day, she turned her head towards the bed.

Curled into a ball, Adrian was still sleeping snug beneath a patchwork blanket. Helena walked over, shin to the bed frame. Her eyes were still, focussed in his face. She reached out and brushed her thumb over his brow, her lips tugging up into a soft smile.

Leaning down, she whispered into his ear. "I'll be downstairs."

The only answer she got was a small groan, but it was enough. Adrian rarely woke up at dawn, and if he did, then he was usually in a frightful mood for the rest of the day. For now, she'd just leave him to sleep.

She pressed her lips to his cheek, whispering a quiet farewell. Straightening, she turned away from him and collected a fresh change of clothes, before heading down to the room below. By the time Adrian had managed to drag himself out of bed, she'd eaten breakfast, tended to the herb garden and started reading a book on ancient Asian history. As she flipped over one of the yellowing pages, a soft creak met her ears.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?" she asked, not looking up.

"Yes. Surprisingly well," he said through a yawn.

"Good. There's plums and apples over by that stack of books if you want some." She waved her hand in the vague direction. The answer she got was an amused snort.

"There's at least five stacks of books over here."

With a belligerent sigh, she looked up and pointed to the pile by the window. "That one, with the white book on top."

Adrian just sent her a raised eyebrow and a grin, before heading over to snack on some fruit. Leaning against the windowsill, he considered her. "So, what are we going to do?"

Helena carefully closed her book and set it aside. She leant back into her chair, closing her eyes. "Ed and Hermine are our best bet. They have the highest authority. I doubt they'll be happy about this development, but it's hardly our fault."

"Yes. That seems to be our only viable option beyond packing up and leaving," Adrian said, taking another bite of his apple.

Helena expelled a deep huff of air, tapping her finger nail against the arm of her chair. "Shall we just get this over and done with then?"

"Yes, I suppose we probably should."

Helena hadn't noticed the looks before. Maybe she'd been blind to them, used to the fear and the aggression, but now she saw them for what they were. These were the looks of the Dens and Fengari, the wolves that had believed her to be a monster, a murderer. The Montis had always viewed her with a wary tension, but never outright aggression. Not like this.

Walking with Adrian at her side, she saw wolves stop and stare. Some even crossed to the other side of the road to give them a wide berth. Whispers. Flighty gazes from second story windows.