ed it hard. A loud, grating creak echoed through the empty

was a thick, suffocating mix of mold,

g her sleeve over her nose and mouth as

ame blocking the worst of the dusty draft. He waved his hand

cattered stones, piles of dried weeds, and dirt covered the floor. And there, in the center of the

c, the despair. She was a survivor. She had survi

s chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths. She poi

was gentle, but it left no

prise, maybe. He wasn't used to being ordered to r

own, his movements slow and deliberate. He settled b

ratches and fresh bruises. She found a half-bald broom in the corner and began to s

t with the broom. It didn't budge. She dropped the broom and press

th

o the rough edges, her face turning red from t

d struggle. His fingers tapped lig

ed over until he sto

ry," he s

brow. She opened her mouth to stop h

ppressed power. A tiny thread of silver wolf ener

ng into a mask of effort. The hundred-pound rock sc

race himself against the wall. He let out a seri

ed over, grabbing his arm. His sk

e reevaluated him. He was stronger than he looked, possessing a surprising burst of power, but

orner. Nothing. Just dust and splinters. Finally, in th

ainstakingly scraped away the blackened, moldy skin. It

in half. The larger piece, maybe a

root in his hand. A complex emotion

ardboard. It was dry and hard to swallow. But she force

water flow. The depth. The terrain. Remember

e. She turned to Elvin, her eyes

he announced,