Divided

Encounter

Hi:)

Caterina's POV

We stand in the castle's garden, surrounded by the vast expanse of snow. The crisp air bites at my cheeks, and the ground beneath us crunches with every step. The towering trees, dusted with snow, stand like silent sentinels around the clearing, and the garden seems to stretch endlessly in the pale, wintry light.

Ajia beams with pride as she steps back to admire her creation. "Ha!" she laughs triumphantly, placing her hands on her hips as she surveys her snowman. It's a chubby figure, lopsided but undeniably full of character, with uneven lumps for eyes and a crooked carrot nose that makes it look almost comical.

"Mine wins for sure!" She declares confidently, her voice full of challenge as she jumps and points dramatically at Athan, who stands a little further away, still assembling his snowman.

I glance at Athan's snowman, and my eyebrows rise in surprise. It's a messy pair of snowballs stacked on top of each other, with a couple of thin, brittle twigs stuck out awkwardly like arms. There's no sign of a face, just the rough outlines of what could be a snowman—but only just.

Ajia's eyes shine as she waits for my verdict. "So, who wins?" she asks eagerly, practically bouncing on her toes.

I take a moment to consider, turning my gaze between the two creations. "Mmm... Ajia," I say, unable to hide the slight smile that plays at the corners of my lips. Her eyes practically light up at the compliment.

"Yes!" She cheers, throwing her arms into the air with glee, her laughter ringing through the quiet garden.

Athan, still standing beside his incomplete snowman, looks at me in disbelief, his brow furrowed. "How?" He protests, his voice tinged with confusion and annoyance.

I watch as Ajia sticks out her tongue playfully at him, her victory already sealed. "Her snowman has a weird face," he grumbles, gesturing toward the slightly lopsided figure in a way that's both amusing and exasperated.

Ajia laughs even harder. "At least my snowman has a face!" she retorts, sticking her tongue out even more exaggeratedly.

The playful banter continues, and I can't help but smile. After all, this started as a simple way to pass the time, but now it feels like a small battle of pride, full of laughs and lighthearted teasing.

Zenesha's POV

I stand in the heart of the Werewolf Forest, my fur dusted with snow as the morning light filters through the dense canopy of trees. The sunlight barely reaches the ground, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow across the snow beneath my paws. My royal guard is at my side, a quiet, vigilant presence, as we make our way through the forest. The scent of pine and the cold world fills the air, but something else lingers now—a foreign scent.

I pause, my ears twitching as I inhale deeply. The strange smell cuts through the usual forest scents, sharp and unfamiliar. My guard shifts beside me, his body tense.

"Unknown wolf," he mind-links me, his thoughts laced with caution. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment, his stance protective and alert.

Without a word, we spring into action, moving with purpose. My paws sink slightly into the snow as we rush forward, following the scent trail. It leads us deeper into the forest, the trees becoming thicker, the air colder. The morning sun struggles to penetrate the thick branches above, casting pale beams of light that barely reach us.

After a few moments, we arrive at a clearing. And there she is.

A wolf with fur so red, it almost looks like fire against the stark white snow. The color is so vivid, so rare, that for a moment, I'm taken aback. She doesn't seem to notice us as she gnaws on a piece of meat, her movements slow and deliberate, almost leisurely, as though she's in no hurry.