Page 111 of Thrown To The Wolf

You must return, it said. Calm, even, yet holding such a terrible certainty that the thought to argue didn’t even occur to me. How could it? This was a voice that remade me from nothing.

And from nothing I came. As the light formed on the horizon, slowly reaching out with its fingers of illumination, making more and more details clear, I looked down at my limbs with dumb awe. It took me a bit to remember—hands, fingers, legs, feet, but with those words came the accompanying pain.

Your task is not finished, the voice said. There is more to do. Rise, little black wolf, and serve me.