The old oak stood at the very edge of pack territory, ancient and massive. Its branches spread like arms, creating deep shadows beneath. As Aria approached, her steps slowed. Her survival instincts were screaming at her to turn back, to run home, to tell someone what she was doing. She still went ahead because of the doubt of her power.
Mira stepped out from behind the oak's trunk, and even though Aria had been expecting her, she still jumped.
"You came," Mira said, and there was satisfaction in her voice. "I wasn't entirely sure you would. You struck me as the type to run to authority rather than trust your own judgment."
"I'm here," Aria said, trying to sound braver than she felt. "You said you had things to teach me. About my power."
