adjective ~ occurring or existing at the same time or in a similar way

CHARLIE

Weeks bled together again, though the memory of the warlock lingered like smoke. I didn't know whether to believe his message or bury it, but Aldren's warning had taken root. It was inescapable. I could almost hear his voice in the wind.

The cold clung to us like a second coat. Calida had grown quieter these past few days. She didn't bare her teeth at me this week, and when I caught her gaze, there wasn't hatred there, just a weary sort of detachment. I'd take it. Detachment was better than fury.

And I got to keep my fingers.

We were hunting again. The last meal had been a stingy meat carcass Calida stole from a lone wolf. It was barely enough to keep us both moving. I padded beside her through the frost-hardened trees, our breaths puffing white into the air, my stomach growling in the background.

Suddenly, Calida's ears flicked, her nostrils flaring

Before I could even register it, she broke into a sprint. I followed, muscle memory kicking in as our paws hit the frozen ground. The rhythm of it... the rush of cold air in my lungs, the quiet thunder of our stride, stirred something every time. The bond screamed and cried, begging for the attachment to come back.

Calida veered left, cutting off the path of a small deer, and I swung wide to flank it. The creature burst through the brush quickly, but not fast enough. Calida leapt first, her body hitting with a force that sent the deer crashing to the ground. I joined her, teeth finding purchase in its throat. It screamed, much like the pain buried deep within my own soul, but a heartbeat later, it was over.

Surprised at a second meal only hours after the last, I let her drag the prey to a safe spot. We had been following the river for months now, as if searching for a purpose. It had grown into a habit, and I couldn't quit it.

Calida didn't growl when I drew near, my head lowered and eyes averted from her own. Her muzzle was stained red, her teeth tearing into the deer with vengeance. For a moment, it almost felt normal to see, but then she surprised me again.

She tore a piece of meat and threw it at me with a sharp huff. It hit my chest, slopping to the ground, blood splattering up my paws. I blinked, confused, and she growled at me with annoyance. So, not wanting to piss her off with my disrespect, I gobbled the flesh down, dipping into that instinctual part of my mind that managed this better.

Afterwards, as Calida rested, I quickly shifted to human, knowing I had a fire to light. Bare as the day I was born, I shuddered against the icy temperatures, my body aching and tired. If I didn't shift back regularly, I'd lose the ability. I had to exercise my human form, no matter how emaciated it was becoming.

Negleted.

I was neglecting myself.

Sticks gathered, I made fast work of starting a fire as the sun set. Calida lingered near me, tail low but unthreatening. Her fur shimmered faintly in the fading light of the sun, and as the fire warmed my skin, I sighed with contentment.

"You remember," I mumbled, rubbing warmth into my stiff hands. "Don't you? There's something there tonight."

She tilted her head at my voice, one ear twitching, then huffed softly and turned away.

"Close enough," I murmured.

The cold bit at my skin, so I shifted back to my less-than adequate fur. Shivering, I stayed by her side, letting the silence stretch. For the first time in weeks, I wasn't afraid she'd turn on me. I even dared to lean back against her flank, flopping onto my side like a puppy. She didn't move away, and that tiny mercy nearly undid me.

When I woke the next morning, the world had changed. It wasn't snowing, and I had the sense that winter was nearly over.

Aldren's words cut deeply as we started on our next adventure; unsure where we were going. But after a few hours of the sun rising, the wind suddenly carried a scent that didn't belong.

Not out here, anyway.

Calida was already up, nose to the ground, tail stiff. Her growl was low with uncertainty as she picked up on the pack wolf's stench.

But what she didn't realise, is that I knew that scent.

But the air felt wrong. Too still. Too heavy.

We followed the scent through a thinning of the trees. The scent of blood mixed with the flow of the stream, tinged with the scent of somebody else I knew.

There were three scents. Two familiar, one stranger.

Breaking into the tiny clearing, I didn't know what I expected to find, but the sight stopped me cold.

Blood. Fur. Deep gouges in the earth... The aftermath of a fight.

I dropped my head, carefully tracking forward as I followed the various scents. I singled them out, trying to figure out what happened, as Calida circled the clearing. The faint hum of magic prickled against my skin. The pull of home. But I shoved it away.

Focusing.

Calida prowled ahead, nose twitching, fur bristling as I rose onto my hind legs to sniff a clawed tree. Then I scanned the ground; the drag marks, the splintered branches, and then I had it.

Aldren's scent, but not a drop of his blood spilled.

He'd come from the west, noticeably following the darkened scent that belonged to Cors. I could smell the wild on Cors; how long he'd been out here. Years of neglect and old magic coursed through him, and for once, I was grateful for my gift of tracking.

My chest tightened. They'd been here not so long ago. The blood was still wet, cold, but wet, and the destruction by the stream told me the scuffle was barely a day old.

I slowly straightened, the wind slicing cold through my fur. Calida's ears flattened, her growl deepening. She twisted toward the north, where the treeline grew thick and dark.

The direction Cors had come from. The direction the third man had followed.

Why did the third man attack Cors, and why was Aldren here? Did he see the fight happen? Did he want to protect Cors?

I swallowed hard; maybe the war Aldren spoke of had already started.

There was no scent of death. Just the stranger's blood mixing with Cors' on the dirt. But the scuffle, despite being strong enough to draw blood and fur, stopped on the south side of the trees. And then three pairs of paw prints paced in conversation before straightening and walking together.

What did they want with this third man?

I lowered my nose to the spot of his blood, inhaling deeply. It smelled odd. Like something I'd smelled before, but there was too much masking it. Too much wild, too much herb. Like he was trying to cover it up.

Calida glanced at me, her eyes bright and alert, her posture tense but ready. It surprised me to see her still here, letting me scour the area. Did she understand any of this? Or was her beast just waiting for me?

Her nose twitched, tail flicking with uncertainty. But I felt it too; that this was not for us to find.

I jerked my head, gesturing for us to follow the trail. She didn't hesitate in shooting down my plans, baring her teeth in warning.

She probably had a point.

It wasn't wise to follow them. Despite how much I wanted to have a sense of home, they could stage a coup for all I knew.

We ran until the smell of blood thinned into cold air again, the sound of our paws muffled by the faint trailing of snow. And even as we moved, I couldn't shake the feeling that Aldren's message wasn't a warning of something to come, but something that was already happening.

The further we went, the clearer the path became. At least I thought it was clearing. Snow clung to the trees in patches; the sharp wind cut through them with a wail, muting my senses. Every so often I'd catch the faint tang of rain in the sky, and I realised we were running away from the rainstorm.

It would catch us eventually.

Calida led the way, her movements confident. Too confident for a creature who'd spent months wandering without purpose or mind.

I should know.

Her head was low, tail level, pace steady. I matched her, trusting her even as unease prickled at the back of my scruff.

We weren't following the same path I'd found at the clearing, much to my dismay. The terrain had shifted; rougher with broken branches, narrow paths and angry foxes. At first, I thought she'd lost the trail, but when I looked at her, I knew better. She hadn't lost anything. She was choosing this route.

Typical. Even half-mad, Calida was always the tactician. Never one for walking straight into trouble without an idea. She'd never let me into her plans...or her murder plots that I've tried to hide, but somehow, she knew what she wanted.

Human-less or not.

I huffed softly when I realised where we slowed to hunt, right alongside the river.

As always.

She flicked an ear back at the sound of my sigh but didn't react. Her paws pressed perfect prints into the crusted snow as she bolted away. I fell into rhythm beside her, chasing down a small boar to feast upon.

Winter was letting up; animals were getting braver the hungrier they got.

Days passed this way, but today was different. The wind changed, bringing hints of ash and far-away wolves. Not close, but close enough that my chest stirred with a feeling I hadn't allowed in months.

Home.

The thought unsettled me more than it comforted me.

After food, we stopped at the edge of a shallow ravine, the stream half-frozen at the bottom. Calida stood on the bank, gaze fixed across the gap. I paused, crouching beside her. On the opposite side of the ridge was a day-old trail, still holding up in the frozen snow. Parallel, but separate. Close enough to see, too far to touch.

Calida was keeping her distance on purpose, and now she was rubbing it in my face.

Looks like she realised things were getting boring too, because we had been following Aldren the whole time. I almost laughed in disbelief, rising to my full height and shaking my head. She turned slightly, eyes catching the pale sunlight. There was no recognition, just a calm, steady look, as if to say, of course.

A gust of wind swept through, carrying faint echoes of movement: a distant howl, low and brief. I stiffened. It wasn't a warning, but it wasn't friendly either. Calida's ears twitched, but she didn't respond. Instead, she leapt from her perch, landing with effortless grace, and began following her invisible trail.

I followed, paws sliding across the frozen ground. The cold burned, but I kept close behind her. When we reached the end of the ravine, she paused, her nose high, and I hesitated, wanting to see what she thought without pissing her off or disturbing our balance.

She veered right, away from the sound and away from the trail.

Again, not chasing the fight, but bypassing it.

I realised then how deliberate she'd become. Every turn, every pause, was carrying thoughts. Human? Perhaps. Perhaps not words, not memory, but instinct guided by something wiser than reason. She was almost protecting us. From what, I didn't know.

We climbed a hillside as the sun started to set. The trees opened enough for me to see smoke curling in the far distance; too faint to place, but definitely from a home. My throat tightened. A pack, maybe; I wasn't sure where we were and with the sharp winds behind us, I couldn't smell that far east.

Wait, a minute...

Was Calida purposely going against the wind so I couldn't track?

Was she that clever?

I eyed her curiously as we settled down to sleep, wondering exactly what thoughts passed through her mind.

She stared at the same horizon, silent. Her body was lax, though undecided. I mirrored her, leaving a foot of space between our front paws. She didn't flinch, but huffed softly, eyes half-closing, basking in the setting sun.

She knew what she was doing.

The beast had settled since its revenge rampage. Lost and without purpose, it was being smart. It just wasn't my Calida yet.

If only she could hear my thoughts. If only she could feel my mind pressing against hers. But no answer, of course. Just the steady rise and fall of her chest, the faint gleam of her eyes in the light.

I looked back toward the horizon. Smoke still rose, barely visible in the rising darkness. Maybe it was Aldren. Maybe it wasn't. Either way, we were close. Too close for a wanted couple.

Tomorrow... tomorrow we find out where this ends.

Calida shifted, curling into herself, her tail wrapping tightly around her body. I watched her until the sun disappeared, until the forest fell into silence again. My mind drifted to thoughts of suns and moons...

Then somewhere far off, beyond the trees and ridges, a single wolf howled again, not quite familiar, not quite foreign. The sound rolled through the night, and I felt it settle deep in my bones.

We were getting closer to home. Just not by the path I'd expected.