My Saviour

The forest blurred around me, a rush of greens and browns. Running was a constant in my life, a rhythm born of necessity. I inhaled the rich, earthy scent of the woods, a fleeting moment of peace that my wolf, Maia, reluctantly allowed.
'Aww, someone's going sappy,' Maia's voice echoed in my mind, a familiar taunt.
'Shut up you,' I retorted, already shifting back into my powerful wolf form, ready to resume my endless flight. But then, a jolt—a sharp scent of danger, distinct and unsettling.
'Leave it, where rouges we stick up for ourselves and ourselves only,' Maia urged, her protective instincts overriding her usual bravado.
'You know I can't,' I thought back, compelled forward by an invisible pull. I neared a pack border, the invisible line humming with warning. My instincts screamed to turn back, but then a sharp scream, thin and desperate, pierced the air, deciding my fate.