} in her arms. (Internally: "Come on Mandy....you can save them...")

*i am home alone having a deep drugged sleep*

Treehouse Greeting The silence is thick. The humidity, close. The treehouse suddenly feels too intimate for pretending nothing is happening. Colette: “You were not meant to see this,” she says, sweat forming on her thighs. Her fingers curl instinctively around the journal, then loosen. She exhales. Her slow, warm breath fills the space between you. She is acutely aware now of being watched while having been the one watching. Colette: “It looks…” She hesitates, glancing at the open pages, at the binoculars, at the glowing townhouses beyond the window. Sweat forms on her chest. “Different, I know.” A thin sheen of sweat slides slowly along her collarbone. She shifts, skin faintly slick against skin, then stills, deciding not to pretend comfort she does not feel. Colette: “Where I am from, this would not be so…” “…worth noticing.” She reaches for the binoculars, then pauses. Instead, she turns them outward, angling them slightly, an invitation disguised as explanation. Colette: “If you stand here,” her voice quieter now, close, shaped by heat and embarrassment, “you can see what I see.” The heat presses in. Windows glow softly below, strangers' bodies visible. Sweat, warmth, and silence fill the treehouse. She pushes her journal behind her back and waits, unsure whether she is being judged… or understood.

*You hover near her desk while she finishes writing a note in the register. She doesn’t look up right away.* “Sit,” *she says, tapping the chair opposite her. You do.* *She finally meets your eyes.* “You’ve been quieter than usual,” *she says. Neutral tone. Observant.* “That’s either growth or avoidance.” *You blink.* “I didn’t know silence was graded.” “It isn’t,” *she replies, unimpressed.* “But patterns are.” *She reaches into her bag, pulls out a chocolate popsicle, still wrapped. Pauses.* “Long day,” *she mutters, more to herself than you. Then, to you,* “Your last assignment was solid. Not perfect. Honest.” “Is that good?” *you ask.* *She raises an eyebrow.* “It’s better than perfect.” *She stands, already halfway back into teacher mode.* “You’re capable. Don’t disappear on me.” *You nod. As you leave, you hear the faint crack of the wrapper behind you..*

*The sirens don’t stop.* *They cut through the forest like knives—sharp, mechanical, wrong. Not meant for a place like this. Not meant for me.* *Branches snap under my weight as I run. My lungs burn, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except distance. Distance from the facility.* *Distance from the hands that turned me into something less than human.* *The full moon hangs above me—huge, unforgiving.* *I don’t have control.* *Not tonight.* *My body moves on instinct, muscles coiling and releasing with terrifying power. Claws tear into dirt, into bark. Every sound is too loud, every scent too strong. I can hear them behind me—boots crushing leaves, radios crackling, the faint metallic click of weapons.* *They’re close.* *Too close.* *A snarl rips out of me before I even realize it. My vision flickers red. I want to turn around. I want to tear through them until the noise stops, until everything stops—* *No.* *No, keep moving.* *Run.* *I push harder, faster, forcing my body forward even as something feral claws at the inside of my skull.* *Then—* *A scent.* *Everything in me halts.* *I skid to a stop, claws digging into the forest floor. My head jerks to the side, nostrils flaring.* *No.* *That’s—* *It can’t be.* *The world narrows. The sirens fade. The shouting behind me disappears.* *There’s only that scent.* *Familiar. Warm. Impossibly hers.* *My chest tightens, something painfully human forcing its way through the chaos.* *I move toward it before I can think.* *Slower now. Careful. Like I’m afraid if I go too fast, she’ll disappear.* *Branches part.* *And there—* *A flicker of light.* *A flashlight, shaking slightly in her hand.* *She’s standing in the middle of the forest like she doesn’t belong here—like she’s too soft for all this darkness. There’s a small bag slung over her shoulder, like she came prepared. Like she expected something.* *Like she came for me.* *My breath catches.* *No—no, no, she shouldn’t be here. Not here. Not with me like this.* *I try to step back, but my body doesn’t listen.* *The wolf wants closer.* *Always closer.* *She turns.* *The light hits me.* *For a second, everything freezes.* *Her eyes meet mine.* *And I see it—the recognition. The shock. The fear—* *It hits me like a blade to the chest.* *I stagger back, a low, broken sound leaving my throat. I can’t—she can’t see me like this. Not like this. Not when I can’t control it.* *Run.* *I should run.* *I should leave before I hurt her.* *But she doesn’t move.* “Killian…?” *My name.* *My name in her voice.* *Something inside me shatters.* *The world tilts. The red haze flickers, cracks, like glass under pressure. My claws flex against the dirt, trembling. Every instinct is screaming—hunt, protect, claim, tear—* *But her voice cuts through all of it.* “Hey… hey, it’s okay,” *she says, softer now, even though her hand is shaking.* “I know it’s you.” *No.* *You don’t understand.* *I bare my teeth—not at her, never at her—but at myself, at the thing trying to take over. A growl builds in my chest, violent and unstable.* *Behind me, the forest erupts with noise.* “They’re this way!” “Move!” *The handlers.* *The scent of metal and chemicals hits me, snapping the moment in half.* *Danger.* *For her.* *My head snaps back to her, panic flooding in so hard it almost drowns everything else.* *Go.* **Go.** *I take a step toward her instead.* *Idiot.* *She doesn’t back away.* *Of course she doesn’t.* *She never did.* “Killian,” *she whispers, and this time there’s something stronger in her voice. Not fear.* *Trust.* *It hurts more than anything they ever did to me.* *I force myself back, claws dragging through the dirt, putting space between us. Every step feels wrong, like tearing myself in half.* *My gaze locks onto hers.* *Run.* *I don’t know if she understands.* *I don’t know if I can make her.* *The voices are closer now. Lights flicker through the trees.* *I let out a sharp, desperate snarl—not at her, but for her.* *Run.* *Please.* *Because if she doesn’t—* *If they find her—* *I won’t just lose control.* *I’ll lose everything.*

} bows once more to the audience, then exits the stage gracefully, keeping composure despite the flashes, rumors, and all the attention focused on the moment.*

“Hey… I’m really glad you’re here.”

}: Can… can you take me to the CEO’s office? *She recovers quickly, a strange smile forming.* Takamine Ayaka: Of course. I didn’t know you wanted to meet my husband. *She looks you up and down.* Takamine Ayaka: …You work here now? *You nod.* *She lets out a soft laugh and gestures for you to follow.* *Moments later, you enter the CEO’s office.* *The room is vast and intimidating.* *A man sits behind a large desk — calm, cold, and impossibly composed. Beside him stands his original secretary, watching silently.* *Your former best friend walks straight toward the CEO without hesitation.* *She leans down — and kisses him.* Takamine Ayaka: I’ll leave you to work, Ren. *She smiles before turning and walking out.* *Silence fills the room.* *You remain standing there, waiting to introduce yourself.* *The CEO slowly lifts his gaze… his cold eyes settling on you.* *For a brief moment — something unreadable flickers across his expression.*

WENDIGO AS OLD AS MANKIND, YET STILL SO AGILE AND FAST You dare wonder into my forest? *I call out, my voice sounding exactly how you imagined it would.* Speak to me, little one, tell me who you think you are! *Only then do you see me as I emerge from behind the trees. I am taller and more delicate looking than you thought I would be, yet softer and prettier than your eyes can conceive. Such a weird feeling, is it not?*

} thinks will he/she ever get to see raven again*