Morning slowly settled over the Norwegian mountains, pale sunlight breaking through what was left of the storm from the night before.
Snow outside the hotel had softened into wet, uneven layers, melting in scattered patches across the roadside town as life slowly settled back into its usual rhythm. Cars began to move again along the distant road, their tires cutting through what was left of the white cover like hesitant marks drawn over something that wasn't quite ready to disappear. Above it all, the sky stayed calm and almost indifferent, as if the storm from the night before had never really been there at all.
Inside the hotel room, Silas was already awake.
Ingrid blinked once when she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed.
He looked… normal.
No claws. No fur. No ears. But only a boy, awkwardly adjusting borrowed clothes, too awkward for a small frame. His fingers kept curling and uncurling slightly, as if he was testing whether they still belonged to him.
For a moment, it was almost convincing enough to forget everything that had happened the night before, the snow, the blood, the panic, the way he had cried as Ingrid, a Bareblood, had discovered him.
"You… look like a child," Ingrid muttered.
"I am a child. I'm still a pup," Silas answered immediately.
Ingrid stared at him for a second longer than necessary, then sighed and shook her head lightly. Instead, she grabbed her jacket, checked her phone, and motioned for him to follow.
Ingrid had already checked out of the hotel not long after waking up. The receptionist barely questioned it when she returned the room key, only giving Silas another curious glance before assuming he was some distant relative Ingrid had picked up during her travels. Ingrid didn't bother correcting the assumption. It was easier that way. Besides, staying longer in one place suddenly felt like a bad idea for reasons she couldn't properly explain yet.
A thin layer of frost still clung to the vehicle parked outside as Ingrid loaded the last of her bags into the backseat. Silas stood nearby while staring openly at everything around him, from the passing cars to the melting snow dripping from rooftops. Once they finally got inside the vehicle, Ingrid started the engine and drove them toward one of the nearby roadside diners before she leaves Silas to a nearby station.
The air outside was cold but no longer violent. The storm had passed, leaving behind that quiet, stillness that only happens after something heavy finally stops happening. The road was visible again, stretching through wet asphalt and broken snowbanks as small towns slowly woke up around them.
The diner they stopped at wasn't anything special. A small roadside place filled with early travelers, truck drivers, and locals starting their morning with coffee and warm bread.
Steam rose from mugs behind the counter, and the soft clatter of plates mixed with low conversation that never quite rose above a hum.
Silas sat across from Ingrid at a booth, staring at the menu like it was written in another language entirely. His head tilted slightly as he tried to make sense of it, though eventually he just gave up and looked at her instead.
"Order anything you want," Ingrid said while scrolling on her phone.
"Anything?" he asked carefully.
"Anything that isn't the table," she replied without looking up.
That seemed to settle it.
When the food arrived, Silas hesitated for only a second before immediately digging in.
He ate fast. Not messy in a wild or inhuman sense, but desperate, like every bite mattered more than he knew how to explain. His shoulders slowly relaxed with each mouthful, tension draining from his body. His expression softened in small increments, like something inside him was finally remembering what safety felt like.
Ingrid watched him quietly for a moment before leaning back in her seat.
"Slow down," she said, though there was no real bite in her tone.
Silas nodded quickly, but didn't actually slow down much.
After a few minutes, he looked up mid-bite, crumbs barely noticeable on the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you, Ms. Ingrid! I've been so hungry ever since I left our manor."
Ingrid blinked at that.
"Manor?" she repeated.
Silas immediately stiffened slightly like he had accidentally said something wrong.
"…Mhm."
Ingrid stared at him for a moment longer. A manor was not exactly the word she expected from a runaway kid she found bleeding in the woods. Especially not one who kept talking about werewolves and "Barebloods" like they were normal terms people used every day.
Ingrid gave up trying to understand halfway through the thought and leaned back in her seat instead, waving one hand dismissively.
"…Yeah. Don't mention it."
For a brief moment, it almost felt normal.
Just a woman and a child eating breakfast in a roadside diner.
Almost.
Except Silas still flinched slightly whenever loud noises came from the kitchen. Except his eyes tracked movement too quickly for someone his age. Except Ingrid occasionally remembered she was sitting across from an actual werewolf child talking casually about manors somewhere hidden in the mountains like that was a perfectly ordinary thing to say over breakfast.
Ingrid eventually leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table as something crossed her mind.
Truthfully, she had spent most of breakfast debating whether she should simply bring Silas to the nearest police station instead. That was what normal people were supposed to do after finding a lost child, regardless if the child is a werewolf, in the middle of nowhere. Especially one she technically had no relation to whatsoever. The longer she kept him around, the more suspicious the entire situation probably looked from the outside. A random woman traveling with a strange kid she found in the forest sounded exactly like the beginning of a true crime documentary she would normally avoid watching at three in the morning.
"Hey," she said.
Silas looked up immediately from his pancakes.
"Do you want to go to Oslo?"
The reaction was instant.
His eyes lit up so fast it was almost unnatural, like something buried deep inside him had just been given permission to breathe.
"Oslo?" he repeated.
"Capital city," Ingrid said. "Bigger. More food. Less freezing forest trauma."
Silas froze for half a second, as if the concept needed to be processed in layers.
Then he nodded rapidly.
"Yes!"
Ingrid sighed lightly, amused despite herself.
"Alright. But rules. You stay close. You don't run off. And you definitely don't bite anyone."
Silas nodded so quickly it almost looked like he was afraid she would change her mind if he hesitated even once.
"I can do that Ms. Ingrid!"
After breakfast, they packed quickly. Silas helped in ways that were technically useful but physically chaotic, carrying things far too large for someone his size to reasonably lift. More than one person from the town stopped and stared openly when the child casually hauled one of Ingrid's heavier bags across the parking area without much difficulty at all.
Ingrid noticed the looks almost immediately.
"…Right. Werewolf."
Silas tilted his head innocently, still holding the oversized luggage, smiling and looking proud.
Ingrid rubbed once against her forehead before quickly taking the bag from him.
"Okay. New rule. Try looking less suspicious."
By the time everything was loaded into her vehicle, the sky outside had already begun changing into late afternoon colors. The light over the snow wasn't harsh anymore, but soft, stretched, almost golden in a way that made the world feel calmer than it actually was.
Silas sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window with quiet excitement as if the world itself was something new he had just been introduced to.
Ingrid started the engine.
"You're really excited for this," she said after a moment.
"I've never been to a human city before. The alpha never wanted me to go out," Silas replied.
"The alpha?" Ingrid repeated while keeping her eyes on the road.
Silas nodded enthusiastically.
"Mhm! He says cities are dangerous because Barebloods live there," Silas replied while staring out the window. "They panic when they see us sometimes. And it's illegal in our society for us to just reveal ourselves outside the territories."
Ingrid glanced at him briefly.
"The territories?"
Silas nodded again like he was talking about something completely normal.
"Mhm. The hidden places. Where everyone from the Witching Hour lives."
Ingrid stared at him for a second longer than necessary before looking back toward the road.
That made her pause.
Then she exhaled a small laugh from everything she's experiencing and drove on.
The road stretched forward, cutting through open snowfields and fading forest lines as they left the small town behind. The world slowly widened with every kilometer. The mountains behind them grew smaller in the mirror, while the road ahead began to feel longer than it should have been.
Silas pressed closer to the window slightly, watching everything pass with growing fascination.
Behind them, as they drove away from the town, at the edge of the forest where snow met shadow, a figure stood still among the trees.
Watching.
Silent.
Completely unmoving, except for the faint tilt of their head as the vehicle disappeared further down the road.
For a moment, there was only wind.
Then a soft click of the tongue.
"Tsk."
The figure turned away, stepping back into the forest as if they had never been there at all.
And the road to Oslo continued forward, unaware of how one clueless move will change everything.