Whitefish River It's been one week

This had been one hell of a week. The memories had come flooding back to him, one by one, an impactful memory rising to him each day. Whether this was a dream or hell or heaven or reincarnation he didn't know. But he knew he'd been a wolf before. A man with a position and a family and a pack and a life. Now he was no more than a little potato that wriggled around and fought with her siblings. Now he was a girl, a daughter, someone's daughter. They would look upon him just like he had looked upon his daughters throughout his life.

There was something distinctly familiar about her mother's scent. The girl couldn't quite place it, but she had known this woman, some place, somewhere. Perhaps in the life that she had come from. Often she would dream when she slept and the dreams were complex and detailed. They were always of the same wolf, of her former self, of the white-pelted man with the freckles. In some of the dreams he had a broken eye and torn skin, but in many of them he was young and not yet battered by time.

After awaking from another of her dreams the girl started to cry loudly. Mewl. Cry. SCREAM at the top of her tiny lungs for some attention.

@Speedy / Acheron @Syrma @Castor