The older wolf studied me carefully. "Not recently. Long enough ago that most wolves now speak of it only in fragments, if at all. A woman. Not identical to you, but close enough that the resemblance would matter if the right people understood it."
The room felt smaller.
"What happened to her?"
The older wolf looked toward the fireless hearth before answering.
"She was claimed incorrectly," he said. "Named according to the needs of others. By the time she understood what was happening to her, every available path had already been shaped by wolves who wanted to turn her into something useful."
The words landed hard.
"And she died?"
"No," he said. "She disappeared."
That answer somehow felt worse.
"Which means what?"
"It means no one knows whether she escaped, broke, or was taken into something none of them were capable of following."
Silence followed that.
