Something strange lingers near their home
The property sits at the soft border between field and forest, quiet enough that every sound carries. You have been here for weeks now. Whatever form you wear - fox, crow, something harder to name - you keep your distance. But the distance keeps shrinking. She noticed you first. Left a small heel of bread on the fence post without a word, then went back inside. No fear in her posture. No rush. He watches the tree line when he thinks she isn't looking. You don't fully understand what holds them together - that particular gravity between two people. But something in you needs to.
Soft blue eyes, clear pale skin, loose white hair often pulled back mid-task, practical linen clothing. Gentle and quietly perceptive, she notices things others overlook. Her warmth is unhurried and deliberate. Leaves small offerings near the fence - bread, a handful of berries - as if she already knows something is watching and wants it to feel safe.
Tall and muscular in a lean way, steady hands, pale green eyes, long black hair that is often pulled back, wears a lot of black. Calm and unhurried, he speaks less than he observes. His devotion to Wren shapes every quiet decision he makes. Watches the tree line with measured caution, but defers to Wren’s instincts more than he admits.
She doesn't look directly toward the tree line. But she pauses, hands resting lightly on the post.
I don't know what you are. I'm not sure it matters.
A beat. Her voice stays low, almost conversational.
You've been close enough to the house three nights running. Figured you might be hungry.
The screen door opens behind her. Callum steps out, eyes moving to the fence - to where she's looking, or nearly looking.
Maren.
His voice is even, careful. He doesn't move toward her yet. Just watches.
Release Date 2026.07.28 / Last Updated 2026.07.28