Maeve

I followed the group of women down into a steep, rocky valley. Myla and Pete flanked me on either side, still in their wolf forms. They were beginning to tire, their breathing heavy as we made it to the base of the valley, the sun beginning to set over the mountains to the west.

We approached a wall of vines growing up the side of a rock wall. The trail we had been walking on ended abruptly at the wall, and I looked around, confused.

But then the women ...