Surely it wasn't his mind or ears playing tricks on him, right? He could've sworn—absolutely sworn—that he had just heard the predator talk.
But as bizarre as that was, another thing gnawed at him even more.
'It mentioned something about... a baby boy?'
His pulse quickened. Is it talking about him?!
That would explain everything—the reason why he couldn't speak, why moving felt like dragging lead weights. Is he... trapped...? in a newborn infant's body?
The thought was terrifying. Confusing. And above all—impossible. Yet, what other explanation could there be?
Before he could process it further, another voice rang out.
"Fenrir! What are you doing there?"
He stiffened. Who's there? His eyes darted around—or at least, tried to—but the limited control over his newborn body made it impossible. He couldn't see the source of the voice, he couldn't even tilt his head if his life depended on it.
Then, as if answering his silent plea, another figure came into his view.
Another wolf.
Its coat was stark white, almost shimmering under the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. Dark, jagged stripes ran along its sides, like ink splashes across snow. And its eyes... one was like a piercing amber, while the other half looked like a cold silver. It looked... graceful, but with a dangerous edge, like the kind of predator that didn't need to boast to show dominance.
'Another... talking wolf?!'
He couldn't decide what was more absurd—the fact that he was apparently an infant or that wolves around him talked. And yet, here he was.
The white wolf was the first to speak, its voice was deep yet oddly gentle.
"Fenrir, what is a baby human doing here?"
Fenrir—so that was the one-eyed wolf's name. The scarred beast grunted, never leaving his gaze on the infant.
"I haven't the slightest idea..."
The white wolf tilted its head, twitching his ears.
"And how did you even find him? Human babies aren't exactly known for wandering into the heart of the forest, let alone being this... quiet. It's... uncharacteristically calm."
Fenrir huffed.
"Your guess is as good as mine. He just happened to be here. Quiet as a stone, didn't even make a peep when I approached. I thought something was wrong."
The white wolf stepped closer. It lowered its head, bringing its snout toward the baby's belly. Warm breath washed over his skin, sending an involuntary shiver through his tiny body.
'Haha, hey, stop, that tickles!' he wanted to say—but of course, no words came out, just a soft, incoherent noise.
The white wolf pulled back slightly.
"Seems to be alive and well," it said with a hint of amusement.
'Of course I am! Do you think I'm just a mere corpse?!' he wanted to shout, but his mind was screaming in frustration at his inability to speak.
And all that escaped his lips was a faint coo.
The one-eyed wolf, Fenrir, leaned in closer, inspecting him carefully.
'Wha—why is it looking at me like that?!'
Panic flared in his chest.
'Is it actually trying to eat me after all? Surely newborn meat wouldn't suit its taste, right?'
The white wolf glanced at Fenrir.
"Should we bring him to the old man?"
Fenrir huffed.
"I thought about it too. Maybe he knows what to do with him… and how to take care of him, given that they're the same kind."
Same kind? His thoughts raced.
'Does that mean a fellow human? Yeah, yeah, hurry and take me there!'
Apparently, from the wolves' perspective, his internal excitement was translated into a series of cheerful coos.
The white wolf chuckled.
"Aren't you full of energy," it said as it began to close the distance between them.
'Wait, how does it intend to carry me? By biting me?'
Not with those razor-sharp teeth! It should know that an infant's body is fragile, right?
'Please treat me with caution!'
But to his surprise, the wolf didn't aim for him. Instead, it latched its jaws onto something just beside him.
'Wait, what?'
It was only then that he noticed it—the handle of a wooden basket.
Actually... after all this time, he was put in a basket.
Fenrir's gaze swept toward the trees.
"We should hurry," he muttered with a low tone.
"Before she arrives."
The white wolf nodded, wasting no time. With swift, fluid movements, he gripped the wooden handle of the basket in his jaws.
'Wait—so that's how you're carrying me?! I mean… I guess that's better than your teeth sinking into my arm or something, but still!'
Without warning, they rushed through the forest. The wind lashed against his skin, sending chills across his tiny body. Leaves were blurred into streaks of green, and branches were zipped overhead. It was exhilarating—terrifying, sure—but undeniably thrilling. The ground beneath them passed in rapid motions through the basket, its like being on a rollercoaster with no harness.
This speed—this agility—it wasn't normal. Then again… what was normal about any of this?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a sudden spray of liquid was shot toward them, glistening under the dappled sunlight. The wolves reacted instantly, veering apart. The basket jolted with the yank, sending his stomach flipping.
'Whoa! What just happened?!'
His heart pounded in his tiny chest. What the hell was that?!
A new voice echoed through the trees, it was sharp and commanding.
"Who dares to barge into my territory?"