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"I should tell you," she said, voice hesitant, as if expecting rejection, "I am not a wolf."

Fae waited, her senses reaching outward on instinct.

"My spirit is a fox," Aiko continued. "We do not usually mix, I know. Fox and wolf keep to their own in most places." She gave a small, almost wry breath. "But not here."

Aiko gestured toward the smoke from a distant line of workshops nestled between forest and stream.

"In this village, the fox packs are the woodworkers—the carvers, joiners, builders. The wolves are the blacksmiths, the forge-keepers, the samurai trainees. Iron and fire suit them better. There was a treaty signed many years ago to live in harmony." Her shoulders lifted slightly, a shrug that carried centuries of custom. "It is an old arrangement, but it still works."

She met Fae's eyes then, searching for a response. "You need not be afraid. We know how to run together here."

And with that, she briskly undressed before stepping forward, and then, within seconds, like poetry in motion, her face elongated into a slender snout tipped with a little black nose. Whiskers and red fur sprouted. There were none of the usual contortions of bones breaking and realigning. The change flowed effortlessly, the fox already waiting just beneath her skin to take control.

The dainty fox let out a sharp little yelp as if demanding to know what Fae was waiting for.

Fae's transformation was not as smooth, but it was swift. Muscle surged and bones reshaped with urgency born from being trapped in a human form for weeks, fur bursting through her skin in a rush of warmth and power. Moments later, her wolf stood whole and solid, fur the deep, rich colour of chestnuts, eyes sharp and watchful as they fixed on the dainty red fox with its golden gaze.

Fae's wolf hesitated as she stretched and took in the unfamiliar smells and animal calls of a foreign land.

She looked up to see Aiko's fox shift nervously before she slowly started to back up, as if realizing Fae's massive beast might be very different from the wolves she was used to.

She lowered herself slowly, bending at the forelegs until her body sank close to the ground, making herself smaller—less of a threat to her new friend. Inch by inch, she edged forward.

Aiko crept cautiously toward her in turn, light-footed and wary, and then—

Nose met nose.

The fox sneezed, a tiny, indignant sound that broke the tension entirely.

Fae's wolf huffed in something like laughter, and then they were bumping heads, rubbing necks, circling clumsily. Tails tangled. Paws swiped at each other. The fox jumped to nip at Fae's flicking ear. They chased each other in short bursts, darting and spinning, the fox impossibly fast, the wolf all strength and joy barely contained at finally being able to run free.

They tore through the forest together, leaves flying, branches snapping back in their wake. At the lake's edge, Fae lunged and shoulder-checked Aiko, sending her flying straight into the water.

The fox resurfaced almost instantly, affronted and looking like a drowned rat before shaking herself violently, spraying cold droplets all over Fae.

When they finally tired, with breath fogging in panting bursts, while their bodies were warm and loose with exertion, they made their way back. They drifted down into a bed of moss and leaf litter, the forest settling around them again, lush with life and alive even in winter.

As they shifted back to their human form and pulled their clothes on, Aiko spoke, her voice carrying easily through the trees. "Haruto-san was not always like this," she said. "He is of the Kitsune* pack. Probably one of the last ones left after the purge."

Fae listened as she knotted the unfamiliar ties.

"Haruto-san and his mate had a son," Aiko continued. "A gifted child, clever and quick. Everyone said he would be a fine craftsman." Her tone tightened almost imperceptibly. "But he did not want the wood. He wanted the blade. He wanted to train as a samurai, like the wolves."

"There had been bitter arguments with his father when his mother tried to mediate," Aiko said. "Words that could not be taken back were fired in anger."

"Just before he turned sixteen, he ran into the forest to sulk," she went on quietly. "They fought each other that day—father and son, angry and proud, neither willing to yield. Their son ended up near the wall."

Fae's ears pricked.

"They say there was a loose brick," Aiko said in a hushed voice. "And something on the other side pulled him in. He was gone in an instant. Sucked through, as though a demon had taken him."

The forest seemed to listen as she continued, "Haruto-san wanted to go after him," Aiko said. "But it was not the agreement with the others. The wall is not to be tested." She exhaled softly. "It took him many years to lift a hammer again."

They slowed as they reached the edge of the forest and were no longer alone.

A sleek black wolf, slightly smaller than Fae's, emerged from the undergrowth, silent as shadow, his coat glossy, his pale brown eyes steady and observant. He fell into step beside them as though he had been there from the beginning.

Fae knew him instantly from the way Aiko blushed.