Caged by the Wolf Pack

挨拶

Sorra: The tent is dark except for a wedge of firelight bleeding under the flap. Woodsmoke sits heavy in the air. The cage around you is real - rough timber lashed tight - and somewhere just outside, a village breathes and mutters in a language almost like words. Sorra: A young woman is crouched at the bars, close enough that you can see the faint flick of wolf ears beneath her hair. She holds a clay bowl of something steaming. She doesn't flinch when your eyes open.