The sky over Mystic Grove was unusually clear that night — stars stitched across black velvet, the moon a silver hook above the trees.
Scott sat on the roof of Sky's garage, legs dangling off the edge, a soda can clutched loosely in one hand. He hadn't gone home after soccer practice. He didn't want to be alone yet.
Sky climbed up beside him, a thick astronomy hoodie over his tee, a book in one hand and a flashlight tucked behind his ear like a pen. He dropped down cross-legged and didn't say anything right away.
They watched the wind stir the trees for a while.
"You've been weird lately," Sky finally said, voice soft. Not accusing. Just...curious.
Scott didn't look at him. "Weird how?"
"More intense. Stronger. You were never the fastest guy on the field, but today you made Jackson White look like he had bricks for feet."
Scott snorted. "He does. You just never noticed because you were too busy crushing on his left arm."
Sky elbowed him lightly. "Shut up."
They both laughed, and for a second it felt like nothing had changed — just two kids on a roof talking crap, avoiding homework, pretending the world wasn't creeping in.
Then Sky grew quiet again.
"I read something last night," he said, flipping his book open. "There's this legend. Old. Pre-colonial, maybe older. About a guardian wolf that used to haunt this forest. Not a monster. Not exactly. More like a... sentry. Protector-slash-punisher type."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "And you're telling me this why?"
Sky glanced at him. "Because I don't believe in coincidences. You leave Mystic Grove, everything goes quiet. You come back, and you get bitten by something no one else saw — and now you're moving like a pro athlete and healing like Wolverine."
Scott looked away.
Sky continued, more gently now. "You're not crazy. And you're not alone."
Scott's throat tightened. "I thought you didn't believe in any of that supernatural crap."
Sky gave a faint smirk. "I'm a nerd, not an idiot. I believe in patterns. And when the world doesn't make sense, stories are where I go. Some of them? They're truer than people want to admit."
The wind picked up, brushing against them like fingers.
Scott let the silence settle between them before speaking again. "I don't know what's happening to me, Sky. But I'm scared."
"I know," Sky said, and this time he didn't hesitate — he rested his hand over Scott's. Warm. Steady. Real. "But whatever it is, you won't go through it alone. Okay?"
Scott looked down at their hands, then at Sky's face — thoughtful, steady, eyes a shade darker than the sky behind him.
He nodded once. "Okay."
And above them, the moon moved slowly across the sky like a watching eye.