The voice is very familiar. We’re on a long, winding street, with woods on one side and shops and houses on the other.

“Mano, come back!”

I can feel the cat growing restless in my arms as we get closer to the voice.

“You must be Mano, then,” I murmur, looking down at it. “Bad kitty. You upset your owner.”

“Mano!”

The broken heartedness of that cry makes my wolf howl. Unwittingly, I find myself moving faster, the desperate nature of the call making my heart tighten. As the road ...