Keeper of the Lost Cities: Rebuild [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twenty-Three - BIANA

Weeks upon weeks upon more weeks of spending time at Havenfield, learning from Grady and Edaline how to care for animals, as well as time spent with Jurek at the Sanctuary, rose to the forefront of Biana's mind. She had learned how to act around various protected species in order for her to be assigned a mission like this one. The trick was to make them feel safe, to not appear aggressive or violent. After all, a lot of the animals Biana tracked had been brutally hunted until near extinction. They were wary, nervous, and sometimes that meant it took longer for them to trust her.

It was because of this knowledge that she was surprised when the dire wolf did not run away but walked toward her, sniffing the leaf-covered ground and eyeing her the whole time. He leapt over the stream and came to a stop only a foot away.

Slowly, she crouched, becoming eye level, showing the majestic creature they were equals.

The wolf didn't react. His amber eyes shone with hidden knowledge, unblinking and intense. One was glazed with white and framed by a jagged scar. On his side there were more old wounds, the pink puckers where fur used to be.

Biana reached for her cloak, careful so as not to startle him, and unclasped it. It fell to her feet with a heavy sound, but the wolf didn't look at what had caused the noise. Biana leaned forward, slipping her fingers under the crimson sleeve of her dress and pulling it back.

"See?" she whispered. "I have scars too."

The wolf stayed unmoving, and she half expected to blink and find him a statue, the real wolf still out there, her mission incomplete. Instead the wolf brought his wet nose to her shoulder and licked it.

Biana squealed, the noise breaking the spell that had been cast around them. Birdsongs and cricket chirps refilled her ears, as well as the trickling of the water, the howling of the wind.

The dire wolf had jumped back at her outburst, but he had not run. She silently thanked him for that and reached for her cloak to cover her bare skin.

"Sorry," she breathed, giggling a little. "You just scared me."

The wolf, seeming to understand, trotted forward and prodded her shoes. Thankfully she was wearing hiking boots and not sandals, so he couldn't lick her again.

"What is it, buddy?" asked Biana, reaching for the pathfinder in her pocket. It would take her and the wolf to the Sanctuary, where Jurek and the rest of the pack were waiting.

As soon as the crystal hit the light, though, the wolf's eyes darted upward. Upon seeing the wand, he jumped and snatched the pathfinder out of her hand, throwing it into the stream.

"No!" Biana shouted, lunging for the spot it had been dumped and finding only rocks. The water had washed it away.

She spun to the wolf, who was staring at her as if she'd lost her mind. "You're the one who threw it!" she accused, digging in her boot pocket for her home crystal. She paused once she caught the wolf eyeing her fingers, and quickly drew them back. "I need that to get home," she said carefully, as if explaining the rules of Base Quest to a young child.

The wolf sniffed petulantly.

Biana crossed her arms. "Okay, then—what do I need to do to make sure you don't lose my home crystal too?"

He perked up, clearly waiting for this, and bounded to the other side of the clearing in just two movements.

Biana sucked in a breath. She had dealt with dire wolves before—the rest of his pack specifically—but their grace and agility never ceased to amaze her.

The wolf howled, a brief but chilling thing, and Biana ran to catch up with him. "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

They went like that for a few miles, him leading her deeper and deeper into the forest. He sniffed the ground occasionally, ran ahead, stopped, waited for her to reach him, and ran some more. The farther they moved from the clearing the denser the woods grew, until Biana could barely squeeze between the trunks of two trees that had twisted around one another. They reminded her of the Wanderling woods or the Crooked Forest, both sad thoughts. One reminded her of Calla, the other a bunch of dead people.