White Roses
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3rd Pov
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The years had been unforgiving to the bond once shared between a boy and a wolf. Time had a cruel way of stretching moments into distance, and distance into silence. The forest, once a place of secrets and shared laughter, had grown darker in their absence, as if mourning the connection it had witnessed and lost.
Sprout had become a name whispered in awe and fear across villages. Known as “The Red Hood Hunter,” he was celebrated for his bravery, his skill with a blade, and his unmatched ability to track and eliminate wolves that threatened the outskirts of human settlements. His red hood, now worn as both a symbol and a warning, stood as a stark reminder of his reputation. Yet beneath the accolades and applause, there was an emptiness he could not shake, a weight that no amount of glory could lift.
Far from the human villages, deep within the heart of the forest, the wolf village thrived under the gentle yet firm care of Cosmo. The once carefree pup had grown into a wise and compassionate figure. As the village’s head doctor and caretaker, Cosmo dedicated his days to healing, guiding, and protecting his pack. His golden eyes, once filled with youthful curiosity, now held a quiet sadness a reflection of wounds that had healed on the surface but festered deep within.
The forest had become his refuge and his prison. Every plant, every tree, every howl in the distance carried memories of a boy he once called his friend, a boy who had betrayed him yet still held a piece of his heart.
Cosmo sat outside his clinic one quiet evening, his paws stained with herbs as he prepared a poultice for an injured wolf. The moonlight filtered through the canopy, illuminating the silver streaks that had begun to appear in his fur. A younger wolf approached hesitantly, her voice breaking the stillness.
“Big Brother Cosmo!”
The small girl pup said, as she runned to him, Cosmo smiled as he got up looking at her.
“Hi there young one! Do you need something?”
Cosmo said looking at her, the young pup nodded.
“Yes! My brother hurt himself!”
The young girl said before Cosmo can ask more, the young girls brother came in and bonk her head.
“For the last time I’m not hurt! I just slipped!”
Cosmo chuckled softly, setting down the mortar and pestle he had been using. His golden eyes softened as he looked at the young siblings, the little pup staring up at him with wide, earnest eyes while her older brother stood behind her, ears twitching in embarrassment.
“Well,” Cosmo said, crouching to the pup’s level, “slipped or not, your sister seems very worried about you. It’s my job to make sure everyone’s okay, so why don’t you let me take a look?”
The older wolf groaned, his tail flicking behind him. “She’s always making a big deal out of nothing.”
The little pup puffed out her chest and stomped a tiny paw. “It’s not nothing! You almost fell into the stream! What if you broke your paw or hit your head?”
Cosmo’s chuckle deepened, and he reached out to ruffle her ears gently. “It’s good to care about your family, little one. You’re doing exactly what a good sister should do.”
The older wolf grumbled but sat down on the wooden bench outside the clinic. “Fine. If it’ll get her to stop pestering me.”
Cosmo pulled up a stool and began examining the wolf’s front paw, gently feeling along the joints and muscles. His touch was careful, practiced, and soothing.
“Does this hurt?” he asked, pressing lightly on a tender spot.
The young wolf winced. “A little.”
Cosmo nodded, setting the paw down gently. “It’s just a minor sprain. Nothing serious, but you’ll need to rest it for a few days. No running, jumping, or roughhousing until it heals.”
The little pup gasped, her eyes wide with concern. “See! I told you something was wrong!”
The older wolf rolled his eyes. “It’s just a sprain. I’ll be fine.”
“Only if you listen to me,” Cosmo said with a small smile. He began preparing a bandage with some of the poultice he had been working on. “This will help with the swelling and speed up the healing.”
As he worked, the little pup climbed onto the bench next to her brother, watching Cosmo with fascination. “Big Brother Cosmo, do you ever get hurt?”
Cosmo paused for a moment, his smile faltering ever so slightly. “Everyone gets hurt sometimes,” he said softly. “But it’s our job to take care of each other when we do.”
The older wolf tilted his head, catching the shift in Cosmo’s tone. “What about you? You’re always fixing us up, but who takes care of you?”
Cosmo glanced at him, surprised by the question. For a moment, he didn’t know how to answer.
The little pup spoke up, her voice bright and sure. “We’ll take care of you, Big Brother Cosmo! Right, big brother?”
The older wolf hesitated before nodding. “Yeah… I mean, you do a lot for all of us. Guess it’s only fair.”
Cosmo smiled again, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Thank you, both of you. But right now, let’s focus on getting you healed up.”
He finished wrapping the bandage and stood, giving the older wolf a nod. “Take it easy for a few days, and you’ll be good as new.”
The siblings hopped off the bench, the little pup bouncing with excitement. “Thank you, Big Brother Cosmo!” she chirped, nuzzling his side before grabbing her brother’s paw.
“Yeah, thanks,” the older wolf said, giving Cosmo a more subdued nod. “We owe you one.”
As they walked off, their playful bickering fading into the night, Cosmo leaned against the doorframe of his clinic, watching them go.
Their words lingered In his mind.
‘Who takes care of you?’
He let out a quiet sigh, his golden eyes lifting to the moonlight filtering through the trees. The forest was calm, but his heart felt anything but. The ache of old wounds never quite healed, even after all these years.
Unbidden, a face came to mind a boy with bright eyes and an easy smile, now replaced by the shadow of a hunter in a crimson hood.
Cosmo shook his head, pushing the thoughts away as he returned to his work. Some wounds were best left alone.
Meanwhile, in a quiet clearing far from the wolf village, Sprout crouched low, his red hood pulled over his face, shrouding his expression in shadow. His fingers traced the faint indentations of paw prints in the dirt, their direction clear yet unfamiliar. The trail had led him here, deeper into a part of the forest he didn’t recognize.
The moon hung high above, Its silver glow casting eerie shadows over the trees. Sprout straightened, his breath visible in the cold night air, and adjusted his grip on the hunter’s rifle slung over his shoulder. The forest was alive with quiet sounds the rustle of leaves, the faint crack of twigs under unseen paws. Yet, every step he took felt heavier, like the very ground was pulling at him, slowing him down.
Why does it feel like this? He thought bitterly. He was a hunter renowned, skilled, and feared. Yet tonight, the forest felt less like a hunting ground and more like a haunting.
His hand tightened around the rifle as he froze, hearing a faint rustling ahead. His sharp eyes scanned the undergrowth, every nerve in his body alert. Slowly, he raised the rifle to his shoulder, peering through the scope. The shadows shifted, and there it was a figure moving through the trees.
Instinct took over.
BANG!
The shot echoed through the forest, startling birds into flight. Sprout lowered the rifle slightly, his chest heaving as he waited for the dust and sound to settle. He stepped forward cautiously, his boots crunching against the ground.
There, crumpled beneath the pale moonlight, lay a deer. Its lifeless body sprawled in the dirt, its glassy eyes reflecting the stars above.
Sprout let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders sagging slightly. It was just a deer. Only a deer. He walked closer, kneeling beside the animal as he ran a hand over its soft, still-warm fur.
But instead of pride, an overwhelming sense of unease crept over him.
The forest seemed quieter now, as if it were holding its breath. His gaze fell to the paw prints nearby the ones he’d been following and his stomach twisted. They’re still fresh… and they weren’t a deer’s.
He straightened, gripping the rifle tightly as his eyes darted around the clearing. For a brief moment, his mind betrayed him, conjuring an image of golden eyes glowing in the dark, wide and filled with betrayal.
He shook his head, gritting his teeth. No. Don’t think about that. Not now.
But as he turned to leave, rifle slung over his back, the weight in his chest only grew heavier. The forest no longer felt like a place he could conquer. It felt like it was watching him, judging him for every step he took.
As Sprout stepped into the village, the lively chatter of his friends echoed through the cool night air. The warmth of the lanterns hanging from posts contrasted with the cold ache that still lingered in his chest. His boots scuffed against the cobblestone path as he made his way toward the familiar group gathered near the fountain.
“Sprout, buddy!” Dandy called out, waving enthusiastically. His unruly hair bounced with his excitement as he approached. “Welcome back! How was the patrol? Bag anything impressive tonight?”
Sprout hesitated for a moment, his hand tightening around the rifle strap slung across his shoulder. His eyes flickered toward Dandy, then to the others Astro, with his arms crossed and a knowing smirk, Shelly, who was busy sketching something in her journal, and Vee, who was fiddling with the lock mechanism on her knife. They all paused, waiting for his answer.
“I got a deer,” Sprout replied, forcing a small smile. His voice sounded distant even to himself. “Just a deer.”
“Just a deer?” Astro raised a brow. “Man, that’s still better than Shelly here, who got scared off by a raccoon last week.”
Shelly shot him a glare, snapping her journal shut. “That raccoon was aggressive, okay? You weren’t there!”
The group chuckled, but Sprout’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hey,” Vee said, stepping closer to him and tilting her head. “You alright? You seem… off.”
Sprout blinked, caught off guard by her observation. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied quickly, his tone sharper than he intended. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Just tired. It’s been a long day.”
Vee didn’t look convinced, but Dandy clapped a hand on Sprout’s shoulder before she could press further. “Of course he’s tired! Look at him always out there, doing the hard work while we sit here goofing around.” He grinned. “You’re the village hero, Sprout. You’ve earned a break.”
“Yeah,” Sprout muttered, adjusting his hood. “A break.”
Astro frowned, studying him. “You sure you’re good? You’ve been weird lately. Quiet.”
Shelly chimed in, her earlier annoyance forgotten. “Is it the hunts? They’ve been pushing you pretty hard. I mean, I know you’re the best, but even you have limits, right?”
Sprout opened his mouth to reply, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain the weight that was dragging him down? The guilt that gnawed at him every time he stepped into the forest?
Instead, he deflected. “I’m fine, really. Just a lot on my mind.”
Dandy nodded, oblivious to the tension in Sprout’s voice. “Makes sense. You’re always thinking a million miles ahead. Anyway, don’t let us keep you if you need some rest.”
Sprout hesitated, the words catching in his throat before he managed a faint nod. “Yeah, I think I’ll head home. Thanks, guys.”
As he turned to leave, Shelly’s voice called after him. “Sprout.”
He glanced back, meeting her gaze. There was a quiet seriousness in her eyes, a rare moment where her usual teasing demeanor gave way to genuine concern. “If you ever need to talk… you know we’re here, right?”
Her words hung In the air, cutting through the ache he’d been trying to suppress. For a moment, his walls cracked, and a flicker of gratitude crossed his face. “Thanks, Shelly,” he murmured.
She nodded, watching him for a beat longer before letting him go. As Sprout walked away, their laughter and chatter grew distant, fading into the night like a melody he could no longer join. The village, with its lantern-lit streets and comforting familiarity, felt too vibrant, too alive, in stark contrast to the heaviness that clung to him like a shadow.
Once inside his family’s farmhouse, Sprout placed his rifle carefully on the wall, the metal cold against his fingertips. He sank into a chair by the window, the moonlight spilling through the glass, illuminating the faint scars on his hands. His fingers traced the edge of the wooden table absently, his mind drifting back to the forest. To the whispers he thought he’d heard. To the weight of choices he could never undo.
After a long moment, he sighed and stood, his boots scuffing against the wooden floor as he moved toward the kitchen. He opened the cabinets, searching until his hand landed on a familiar jar. Inside were pastries he had baked a few days ago small, delicate things he had hoped would bring him some sense of calm. He hummed softly to himself, a faint melody that felt like it belonged to another life.
Clutching the jar, Sprout stepped outside. The cool night air greeted him, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth. He pulled his red hood over his head and took a deep breath, steeling himself. There was somewhere he needed to go.
The west edge of the forest was quiet, the trees casting long shadows under the pale moonlight. The wind whispered through the leaves, carrying the distant hoot of an owl, the rustling of unseen creatures in the underbrush. Sprout’s boots pressed against the damp earth, each step slow, deliberate. His red hood, though familiar and worn, felt heavier than usual like a weight pulling him back into the past.
This part of the forest was different. It had always been different. Older, heavier, as if it carried the memories he tried so hard to bury. Secrets lingered in the air, ones he wasn’t sure he was meant to uncover.
His grip on the jar tightened. The pastries inside were simple, nothing extravagant, but they were made with care with the same patience and effort that once went into a red velvet cake, years ago. A cake meant to show gratitude, to nurture a bond.
Now, the pastries were nothing more than a silent offering, placed before a ghost.
As he walked deeper, memories clawed their way to the surface. Laughter, warm and bright, echoing through the trees. Golden eyes, soft with trust. A bond that had defied everything he had been raised to believe. And then pain. Betrayal. The sound of a rifle shot still rang in his ears, even if it hadn’t been fired at him.
He reached the clearing and stopped. It looked the same as always, bathed in soft moonlight, untouched by time. And yet, it was different because he was different.
This place had become sacred in a way he could never explain. He had no right to be here, not after what he’d done. But something some part of him that refused to let go always brought him back.
Slowly, he knelt. The jar of pastries trembled in his hands before he set it down, the glass cool against his fingertips. His hands lingered there, gripping the lid, unwilling to fully let go.
A shaky breath left him, his gaze lifting to the moon. He barely moved, barely disturbed the clearing whenever he visited. It was the one thing he could preserve, the one thing he wouldn’t taint further.
He would sit here sometimes, lay out a small picnic like they used to. But it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same.
The truth was, no matter how many times he came back, no matter how many pastries he left behind, the space beside him would always remain empty. The void he had created as a child could never be filled.
His fingers curled into the dirt, nails pressing deep into the earth as if anchoring himself there would change something. His chest ached with something too big to name regret, sorrow, longing. It clawed at him, settled into his ribs like an old wound that never quite healed.
Slowly, he lowered himself onto the ground, settling into the same spot where he and Cosmo always used to sit. It was second nature, muscle memory guiding him there even after all these years. His gaze lifted to the sky, the moon shining down in its quiet, indifferent glow.
He used to sit here for hours, listening to Cosmo’s yaps, his excited rambling about the world beyond their villages, about the customs of the pack, about the way the moon guided them. Cosmo always had a way of making everything feel larger, more alive like the forest stretched endlessly beyond them, full of possibilities.
Back then, Sprout had felt special listening to those stories. Like the world had, for once, slowed down just for him. Like it had given him permission to breathe, to be free.
A soft breath left him, barely more than a whisper. “You always loved the moon, didn’t you?” His voice cracked slightly, and he wasn’t sure if he was talking to Cosmo, to himself, or just to the empty clearing. “I never really got it back then. But I think... I do now.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. The forest didn’t answer. The moon didn’t either. He hadn’t expected them to.
His fingers ghosted over the ground beside him, where Cosmo used to sit where he should have been sitting now. Where he would have been, if things had been different.
If only he hadn’t...
Sprout squeezed his eyes shut. His breathing was uneven, and for a brief moment, he almost let himself break. But he didn’t. He never did.
Sprout let out a slow, shaky breath, forcing himself to stay grounded as he reached for the jar of pastries. His fingers hesitated against the cool glass before he finally set it down in the grass beside him.
“I don’t know if you’d even like these,” he muttered, a faint, bitter chuckle escaping him. “I should’ve at least made something new… something you haven’t already had a thousand times before.”
His thumb absently traced the rim of the jar, his mind drifting back to the hours he had spent in the kitchen, flipping through the same old cookbook. The one he had borrowed all those years ago the one he never returned.
A sigh left his lips as he slumped forward, resting his arms on his knees. His eyes never left the jar.
“I don’t even know if you’ll ever come back…” His voice was quiet, almost drowned out by the sounds of the forest. A humorless smile tugged at his lips, and he shook his head. “Of course, you won’t. Who am I kidding? You already left.”
The words hung in the air, heavier than he expected. Saying them out loud made them feel real. Too real.
He swallowed, tilting his head up to look at the moon. It was full tonight, just like it had been the last time he had seen Cosmo. The last time he had looked into those golden eyes and seen something other than warmth.
Regret coiled in his chest like a vice. He clenched his fists against his knees.
“I should just… let you go,” he whispered. The words tasted like ash in his mouth. “I should move on.”
But he wouldn’t.
He knew he wouldn’t.
Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much he tried to silence the voice in his head, his heart always found its way back here.
To the place where a promise had been made.
And broken.
Sprout ran a hand down his face, his fingers trembling
slightly. “You’d call me an idiot, wouldn’t you?” he asked the empty clearing, a weak, self-deprecating laugh leaving him. “Sitting here, talking to myself. Leaving pastries for a ghost.”
His voice wavered, but he pushed forward.
“You’d probably tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself. To just get up and ” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “But you don’t know what it’s like, Cosmo. You don’t know what it’s like to live with this.”
His grip tightened on his sleeves, his nails digging into the fabric.
Sprout’s breath hitched, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of years pressing down on him all at once.
“I see it every time I close my eyes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. “The way you looked at me that night like I had ripped your whole world apart.” His throat burned, but he forced the words out, as if speaking them into the night would somehow ease the ache inside him.
“I keep thinking… maybe if I had just ” His voice cracked, and he bit down hard on his lip, the taste of copper sharp against his tongue. But there was nothing to take back. Nothing to fix.
Because he had already made his choice.
His fingers twitched as he reached for the jar, brushing against the cool glass before pulling away as if burned. His breath came in unsteady gasps.
“Wherever you are… I hope you’re happy,” he choked out, his vision blurring. “I hope… ” His voice wavered, cracking under the weight of everything left unsaid. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to finish. “I hope you found someone who… who treats you better than I ever did.”
He let out a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I hope you’re safe,” he whispered, his voice raw with desperation. “I hope you’re okay. I hope you ” His throat closed up, and he shook his head, pressing a trembling hand against his forehead. “Damn it, Cosmo… I just ”
The words wouldn’t come.
The wind stirred the leaves around him, carrying the scent of the forest, the distant rustling of unseen creatures. But there was no answer. There never was.
Sprout let the silence crush him, let it fill every part of him that still ached for a past he could never return to. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, unwilling to move, unwilling to let go.
But in the end, he had to.
With a deep, shaky breath, he turned away, his legs feeling like lead as he forced himself to walk.
He left the pastries behind.
And with every step, his heart screamed at him to turn back. But..he forced himself to leave.
And with every step, his heart screamed at him to turn back. But… he forced himself to leave.
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Shelly’s POV
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The night sky stretched wide above us, stars scattered like tiny lanterns across the vast darkness. The moon hung low, casting its soft glow over the village, painting everything in a hushed silver light. It was peaceful the kind of night where worries should melt away.
But something felt… off.
I sat with my friends, leaning back on my hands as we lounged outside. Dandy was stretching out lazily, staring at the sky, while Astro idly tapped his fingers against the wooden bench. Vee, though, was scribbling furiously in a worn notebook, her eyes focused, lips pressed into a thin line.
Curious, I leaned in and grinned. “Hey, Vee! What are you doing?”
Vee let out a sigh, barely sparing me a glance before muttering, “Shelly, please. Keep your voice down. It’s late, and some people actually like to sleep.”
I rolled my eyes but lowered my voice. “Fine, fine. But seriously, what’s got you so focused?”
Vee finally looked up from her writing, adjusting her glasses with a sharp sigh. “I’m sending a letter to the northern village,” she explained, her tone calm but carrying an unmistakable tension. “There have been reports rumors, mostly about werewolves sighted near their borders.”
Astro, who had been idly leaning back against the bench, immediately sat up. “Werewolves? That’s nothing new. There’ve been sightings for years, but they never get close.”
Vee shook her head, her fingers tapping against the paper as if organizing her thoughts. “It’s different this time. They’re saying these wolves aren’t just passing through. They might be settling.”
That made everyone pause.
Settling? Wolves never stayed in one place for long, not unless they had a reason.
Dandy let out a low whistle, stretching his arms over his head. “Well, as long as they stay out of our village, I don’t see why it’s a problem.”
Vee let out an exasperated groan, rubbing her temples. “Of course, you don’t. But it’s not that simple.” She shot a glance at Shelly, as if debating whether to say more, then sighed. “Apparently, the village chief’s daughter the northern chief she… well, she’s rumored to have fallen in love with one of them.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Astro’s brows shot up. “Wait. What?”
Shelly frowned, leaning in. “What do you mean ‘fallen in love’? You’re saying she willingly ”
“No one knows exactly how it happened,” Vee cut in, her voice laced with frustration. “But there have been too many sightings. People claim to have seen her sneaking out at night, meeting someone someone who wears a pink hood.” She let that hang in the air for a moment before adding, “Some say they saw claws. Others swear they only caught a glimpse of a tail. Some just saw a shadow.”
A heavy silence settled over the group.
Dandy was the first to break it with a low chuckle. “Alright, that sounds like a ghost story.”
Vee’s sharp gaze flickered between her friends, the firelight reflecting off her glasses. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, voice low but firm. “If this rumor is true if that girl really has fallen for a werewolf then things are about to change. And not in a way we’re prepared for.”
Astro sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Look, Vee, I get why you’re worried, but let’s be real most of these rumors are exaggerated. You really think a human and a werewolf could…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “That’s insane.”
Vee didn’t blink. “It’s not insane if it’s already happening.”
That shut Astro up.
Dandy, however, scoffed. “Even if it is true, it’s not our problem. We don’t live in the northern village, and if their chief’s daughter is dumb enough to think she can make a life with a werewolf, that’s on her.”
I crossed my arms, eyes narrowing. “You’re missing the point, Dandy. If they do succeed if they convince the village to accept them what do you think happens next?”
Dandy frowned. “What are you getting at?”
Vee exhaled slowly, setting her pen down. “If they allow werewolves to settle among them, it sets a precedent. A new law could be put in place to protect them.”
Silence.
Astro let out a low whistle. “And if that happens… other villages might follow.”
“Exactly.” Vee leaned forward, expression grim. “Which means the way we’ve lived our entire system could start to fall apart. Think about it. Werewolves wouldn’t have to hide in the shadows anymore. They’d have rights. Homes. Protection. And for villages like ours, where hunting them is part of how we survive… that changes everything.”
Dandy clicked his tongue in irritation, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “This is all hypothetical. You’re assuming they’ll actually pull it off. You know how stubborn the northern village is. They’re strict as hell. They’d never allow this.”
Vee met his gaze, her expression steely. “They wouldn’t unless it’s already too late.”
A heavy silence settled between us. The fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows against the trees.
I frowned, shifting uncomfortably. “You think… they’re already considering it?”
Vee tapped her fingers against the parchment, her eyes sharp with calculation. “I think, Shelly,” she said carefully, “that if the rumors are strong enough to reach us, then something’s happening up there that we don’t know about.” She pressed her palm against the letter, as if grounding herself. “And I intend to find out what.”
Dandy let out a frustrated groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Look, even if this whole mess is real, we should still tell Sprout. This is exactly the kind of thing he’s supposed to deal with.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, Dandy… I don’t mind werewolves. I see them almost as equals.”
Dandy scoffed. “Almost?” He shook his head. “You sound like one of them.”
I shot him a sharp look. “I sound like someone who isn’t blinded by old grudges.”
Vee remained quiet, but her gaze flickered toward me, considering. Astro, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke.
“I get where Shelly’s coming from,” he admitted, voice low. “We were raised to see them as enemies, but have any of us ever actually spoken to one?”
Dandy clenched his jaw. “We don’t need to. We know what they’re capable of.”
“Do we?” I countered. “Or do we only know what we’ve been told?”
The fire popped, the tension thick enough to choke on.
Vee sighed, rubbing her temples. “Look, it doesn’t matter what we think of them right now. What matters is the fact that change is coming, whether we like it or not. If this union between a human and a werewolf is real, then it’s not just about one village anymore. It’s about all of them. Including ours.”
Dandy exhaled sharply. “And that’s exactly why Sprout needs to know.”
But Vee hesitated.
I noticed immediately. “Vee?”
She didn’t meet my gaze at first. Then, finally, she murmured, “I don’t know if telling Sprout is the right move. Not yet.”
Astro shifted uncomfortably, his brows furrowing. “Sprout’s always been able to handle himself. He’s one of the best hunters we have.”
Vee shook her head. “That’s not what I mean.” She finally looked up, her dark eyes scanning our faces, searching for understanding. “I mean emotionally. You’ve seen him lately, haven’t you?”
Dandy scoffed. “He’s been busy, that’s all. He’s always like this when he’s focused on something.”
But I knew that wasn’t true. I had seen the way Sprout had been lately the quiet way he withdrew from us, the way his mind seemed a thousand miles away even when we were all together. I had caught him staring into the distance more times than I could count, lost in thoughts he never shared.
I crossed my arms, a heavy feeling settling in my chest. “Vee’s right,” I admitted. “Sprout’s been… different. He’s distracted, distant. I don’t know if it’s just the pressure of his job or something else, but if we throw this at him now…”
Vee nodded. “It could push him over the edge.”
Astro looked between us, his expression troubled. “But if we don’t tell him, and things go south, wouldn’t it be worse? If there really is a human and a werewolf trying to change things, and it backfires, Sprout might end up having to clean up the mess anyway.”
I hesitated, my mind torn. Astro had a point, but something in my gut told me that whatever was weighing on Sprout had nothing to do with the rumors from the north. It was something personal.
Dandy let out a frustrated sigh. “Look, either way, we can’t sit here and argue about it all night. What do we do?”
Vee exhaled slowly, her fingers tapping against the table in thought. “We wait,” she finally said. “Let me send the letter first. I want to know exactly how much of this is true before we drag Sprout into it.”
Astro still looked unsure, but he didn’t argue. Dandy, however, gave an irritated shake of his head. “Fine. But if this gets worse and Sprout finds out we kept it from him…” He didn’t finish his sentence, but we all knew what he meant.
I looked down at my hands, a deep unease curling in my stomach.
Because no matter what choice we made, I had the feeling that, one way or another
This was going to change everything...if this was true