In the end, Selena escaped. Like a gazelle fleeing a lion with a shopping addiction. Azura could only stand there, hands on her hips, breathing heavily, watching the fluffy wolf tail disappear into the treeline like a white flag of surrender.
Dammit.
A few dozen minutes ago, when Selena had transformed into her wolf form, Azura's brain had short-circuited with pure, unfiltered scientific curiosity. It was her first time seeing a real-life werewolf transformation! The bones cracking, the fur sprouting, the snout elongating—it was like a nature documentary but with more screaming and existential dread.
She had to get a closer look.
So she chased harder. Faster. More desperately.
But to Selena, it probably looked like a psychopath with a reusable bag was having a mental breakdown in her direction. So Selena ran faster. And faster. And eventually, she was just a speck in the distance, leaving Azura in the dust—a sad, sweaty, bag-wielding monument to her own failure.
