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He takes the second piece.

“Very gently, apparently.”

I smile.

Something inside me relaxes.

Which is insane.

He could still eat me.

Probably.

But I don't think he's going to.

“You're beautiful, you know.”

The words slip out before I can think better of them.

The Wolf goes still.

“Oh, don't get a big head.”

I reach toward him.

Then hesitate.

Touching him seems like crossing some invisible line. Feeding him is one thing. Petting a giant probably supernatural predator?

That seems like the sort of decision people make right before documentaries cut to interviews with grieving family members.

Still...

He lowers his head. Toward my hand. Almost like permission.

“You're going to get me killed.”

I touch him anyway.

My fingers sink into impossibly thick fur.

“Oh.”

Soft.

He's unbelievably soft.

I scratch lightly behind one pointed ear.

His eyes close. I grin.

“Oh, you're just a big baby, aren't you?”

One eye opens.

“Sorry.”

It closes again.