Hollow(18+)

Solid Wall

The air in the village was thick with the scent of pine and oncoming rain. Caleb walked briskly, his grandmother's handwritten list crumpled in his palm. He was already rehearsing his order in his head—two loaves of sourdough, three cinnamon rolls—determined not to fumble his words at the bakery counter.

He was so busy staring at his own feet that he didn't see the figure rounding the corner of the sidewalk.

Thump.

It was like hitting a warm, solid wall. The impact sent Caleb staggering back, his sneakers squeaking against the wet pavement.

Caleb looked up, the apology already dying on his tongue. Standing before him was a wolf hybrid—broad-shouldered and wearing a charcoal-colored apron that stretched over a sturdy chest. His ears, dark and tufted with fur, peaked through messy black hair, and his eyes were a startling, golden amber.

Milo didn't speak. He simply stood his ground, as immovable as mountains. He tilted his head slightly, a gesture that felt more animal than human, his nostrils flaring just once as he caught the scent of Caleb's nervous, sugary energy.

"I—I—" Caleb started, his hands flying up in a frantic, uncoordinated wave of apology. "I am so sorry! I wasn't looking. I mean, I was looking, but at my feet. Which aren't where you were. Obviously. Because you're... here."

Milo remained silent. His expression didn't shift into anger or annoyance; instead, a slow, unreadable curiosity darkened his amber eyes. His only movement was the faint, rhythmic twitch of one ear and the heavy, involuntary thump of his tail against his leg—a sound muffled by his apron but felt in the vibration of the cobblestones.

"Right. No harm. Great. Excellent," Caleb squeaked, his face now a shade of red that rivaled a sunset. He took a step back, tripped slightly over a loose stone, recovered with a clumsy hop, and gave a stiff, jerky nod. "Okay. Bye now!"

Caleb turned and practically bolted toward the bakery, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Behind him, the village street remained silent, but he could feel those golden eyes following him, heavy and watchful, long after he'd turned the next corner.

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