The Unfortunates | COMPLETED

The scent of damp earth and pine needles filled the air as Avery Wilcott's grey wolf, Sonya, pounded through the forest, the rhythmic thud of her paws a counterpoint to the rapid beat of Avery's angry heart. Seething, she ran, the frustration from her aunt's subtle digs about her matelessness fueling every powerful stride.
Sonya, usually a harmonious extension of Avery, had taken over, sniffing intently at the forest floor. There was a new scent, an unfamiliar presence on their pack's border.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Avery mentally snarled, but Sonya merely growled in response, inching forward. Something large moved in the distance, hidden low amongst the undergrowth.
Avery’s wolf was already tensing, ready to spring. A primal instinct, perhaps, or simply Sonya’s desire to prove herself. Avery braced for impact, knowing her wolf rarely yielded full control.
