Annie was once docile as a lamb, but now she is a wolf on the loose.
She is on a desperate quest :
Finding her true identity,
And finding her father.
Struggling to find a balance between herself and her inner wolf will she find balance? Since...
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╔═══════════╗ When things don't go your way. Breathe and give it time. MJ1 ╚═══════════╝
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On the road to the northern area, trees blurred past the window, their branches melting into streaks of color. Annie pressed her forehead against the cold glass, grounding herself. The chill was a reminder that everything was real. All of it. Her dream had come true. She'd made it to college. But her dream had come at a cost.
"So, what's the plan?" Annie asked. "I mean, I made my decision to follow you in hopes of finding my father, but... how can this resistance help me achieve that?"
Tom nodded behind the wheel. "I haven't met them. I was only able to make it into the group after decoding a message, and we've communicated that way since."
Annie closed her eyes. "Did your parents never teach you not to believe everything a foreigner tells you? I mean, even on the web, they make you believe they're trustworthy—only to scam you. Geez!"
Tom smiled at that. "Well, they did me some favors, and I returned them in kind. Don't worry so much. Besides, they're the ones who found your father, after all. Something your mother failed to do, even though she had the means."
Annie pressed her lips together. Her mother had sent her away and severed communication. She couldn't even reach her siblings anymore. She was alone. Utterly alone. The strain from the day before clung to her body, and soon her thoughts dissolved into darkness.
From the front seats, Tom exchanged a glance in the rearview mirror with Lina. Her eyes lingered on the sleeping girl.
"Do I have to?" she asked him, without even opening her mouth.
"You must. She'll never share what she knows otherwise. Actually, I don't know if she even realizes her dreams are memories," he replied telepathically.
"I don't have to follow your orders anymore. We're deserters now, on the same level," she argued.
"I'm not ordering, I promise. I'm asking. It's for her own good. The more we know, the easier it'll be to convince the resistance that she's the one." Without another word, Lina reached back and gently touched Annie's cheek. Her fingers warmed as she whispered an incantation under her breath. With it, she could enter dreams and witness them.
Annie was running through a dense forest, moonlight slicing through the branches overhead. A large, soft hand held her tightly against a broad chest. She was tiny, maybe seven years old, wrapped in a cloak, her dress like something out of a fairy tale.
"Annie's on the run. She might have been kidnapped, by the looks of it," Lina told Tom.
Suddenly, a growl split the silence. Arrows whistled through the air. The man holding Annie spun with practiced grace, his cape and ornaments whirling around him. With a swift motion, he slashed through the arrows midair with the sword in his left hand. A snarl escaped him. It was deep and animalistic. Then a woman emerged from the shadows and pulled Annie from his arms.
