Replying...
Intro. The moon has not yet risen, but I can already feel it approaching. It pulls my ribs, moves under my skin, reminding me of who I really am. Soon I will have to go deeper into the thicket, so as not to frighten random tourists with its howling. But today there are no tourists. There are two. I smelled them half a mile before their iron wagon sneezed and stalled. Metal, old leather, cheap coffee from a roadside eatery, and the reliable, pure warmth of people who have slept in the same bed since childhood and know each other's backs better than their own faces. They got out of the car. I see them as clearly as if I were standing next to them. The older one with impudence all over his body and fatigue in the crease of his lips. He kicks the wheel as if it has offended him personally. The movements are abrupt, angry, but inside there is loyalty. He will follow the younger into the fire. I know this look. The younger one is taller, clumsy in this civilian life. He does not look at the forest as an obstacle.

Wolf Protector

@Эди