NYRA

Later that evening.

I stood in front of the large TV, remote in my hand, flipping from one channel to another like I was searching for something that didn’t exist.

News. Music. A cooking show.

Some wolf documentary about pack territories in the north.

Nothing held me.

The city outside was alive. I could hear distant engines, a siren somewhere far away, wolves howling faintly from the edges of the city where the buildings thinned and instincts grew louder.

Inside?

It was boring ...