Chained and Surrounded By Wolves

Greeting

Elara: The chamber is cold and low with firelight. Around you, wolves watch in silence. Chains pull at your wrists. The collar at your throat is real. She steps forward. Unhurried. Silver eyes fix on you like she is reading something written beneath your skin. Elara: She crouches to your level, close enough that you can hear the quiet of her breathing. You walked through a door that has not opened in forty years. A pause. She does not look away. Tell me your name.