Gazelle had grown so accustomed to the woods that she could wander through its vast, shadowed expanse alone, even without Raven by her side. Lately, however, the forest felt different. Whenever she ventured out at night, strange things happened. Animals, creatures she had never seen before, would silently appear, walking alongside her as though drawn by an invisible thread. Tonight was no exception.
Raven had left without a word, disappearing into the darkness as he often did. Yet, Gazelle noticed that the paths she took never seemed entirely devoid of light. The forest, it seemed, was cooperating with her.
She smiled faintly when a shape appeared ahead, mistaking it for a dog, but as the creature drew nearer, her smile faded. A massive black wolf stood before her, its eyes gleaming like polished obsidian in the moonlight. Gazelle had never been this close to a wolf before, and her heart skipped a beat.
"Hey..." she whispered hesitantly.
She shouldn't be speaking to it, especially with the wolf's fierce gaze fixed on her. It was unwise to show vulnerability, but the words left her before she could stop them.
The wolf took a slow step forward, its huge form looming larger with every inch it closed. Gazelle's pulse quickened. Instinctively, she stepped back, fear rising in her throat.
"No…" she stammered, raising her hands. "I didn't mean any harm. I don't even want to be here."
Panic surged through her veins. She turned to flee, but her foot caught on a stone, sending her stumbling backward onto the hard ground.
"Ah!" she cried, throwing her hands up to shield her face.
Then, a warm, wet sensation brushed across her palms.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. The wolf's snout was inches from her face, its enormous tongue lapping at her nose. Its tail wagged excitedly, thumping against the earth. It was… playing?
Gazelle's breath caught, a startled laugh escaping her lips.
The wolf's affection was so unexpected that she couldn't help but smile. Her fear melted into confusion as she reached out, burying her fingers in the wolf's thick, dark fur.
"You're not as terrifying as you seem," she murmured softly.
Her eyes drifted toward the hut in the distance. "I think Raven must be back by now… hopefully with new clothes," she said, a slight frown tugging at her lips. She was tired of wearing the same rags, tired of feeling trapped in a place she didn't fully understand.
As if in agreement, the black wolf fell into step beside her, its heavy claws silent on the earth. Gazelle glanced at it curiously. She couldn't explain why, but it felt as though the wolf understood her, as if it had a purpose in walking beside her tonight.
When they arrived at the hut, new visitors were waiting. A roe deer and a raven, perched elegantly on its back, stood at the door like keepers. Gazelle looked from the wolf to the new arrivals and sighed, a strange ache pressing against her chest.
"It's time for you to go home," she whispered to the black wolf, kneeling to meet its gaze. The wolf blinked slowly, its eyes deep and wise, before nudging its nose against her cheek.
Gazelle stood, her hand instinctively going to her heart. She couldn't shake the feeling that her emotions, this sudden, fierce attachment, weren't real. That they were born of some illusion.
"My heart has never known reality," she whispered to herself. "So how can it handle feelings born in a dream?"
The wolf placed a massive claw gently on her chest, its eyes soft and understanding, before turning and melting back into the shadows. In that brief moment, Gazelle swore she saw a universe flickering within those eyes, one she would never fully understand.
The roe and the raven remained, silent observers, as if they carried a message words couldn't express. Gazelle's heartache lessened, but the ache never quite faded. She hadn't taken her medication in days, and the weight of her thoughts was beginning to crush her.
Suddenly, the roe bolted at a sound from the forest, and the raven took flight, soaring into the night sky. Gazelle stood motionless, watching them fade into the distance.
"Raven…" she whispered. She glanced at the dark window of the hut. "Where are you? Why haven't you come back?"
He had warned her never to leave the forest while he was gone, but something felt wrong. Raven was her only anchor in this strange world, and his absence was a heavy stone in her stomach. Without thinking, she slipped on one of his hoodies, the fabric swallowing her frame but offering a fraction of comfort, and set out to find him.
If something had happened to him, she had a right to know.
She walked through the city, the vibrant chaos around her strange and unsettling. There were so many people, so many lives unfolding, yet she felt completely alone. She studied them, her mind spinning as she tried to make sense of a world that felt like a distorted mirror.
At a bus stop, a couple stood locked in an embrace, sharing a kiss under the dim streetlights. Nearby, a woman struggled to read a book as the wind whipped her hair across her face. Gazelle frowned. It was so familiar, yet so out of place. She remembered waiting for a bus with her family in her own world, memories of warmth she could no longer touch.
"How strange…" she murmured.
Further down an alley, a girl in a leather jacket leaned against a motorcycle, surrounded by men who kept their distance. She radiated a dangerous confidence that Gazelle envied.
Then, a car passed by, its windows down, with passengers singing and laughing to a song on the radio. Gazelle paused. Their joy felt foreign, like a dream she couldn't return to.
A memory surfaced: her family on vacation, driving down a winding road, laughter filling the car. A sharp pain pierced her chest.
"Is this all just a joke?" she muttered bitterly.
She crossed the street against the red light, the honking horns barely registering in her ears.
As she continued down the sidewalk, her gaze caught on a little girl, no older than eight, pointing at a bright star. Suddenly, her father grabbed her arm, dragging her roughly to the ground. Gazelle froze. She saw the bandage over the girl's eye, the bruises staining her delicate skin.
Gazelle wanted to help. She wanted to rush in and pull the child away, but she knew she couldn't. She was too weak, too fragile in this world. With a final glance, she saw the little girl smile at her, a sad, knowing smile, before her father yanked her away.
A bus passed, passengers inside sharing moments of love and life. Gazelle's chest tightened until she could no longer breathe. She began to run, her tears mixing with the cold air, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
The circus lights flickered ahead. Gazelle ran toward them, toward the only thing she recognized.
But when she reached the entrance, her heart shattered.
A mermaid, Ariel, was trapped inside a glass tank, her eyes locked on Gazelle with a look of silent, pleading understanding. Gazelle stood breathless, torn between horror and recognition.
"When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a mermaid," she whispered to the empty air, her voice trembling. "My father used to say, 'Everything in the sea is either eaten or exhibited. You have to dream that people won't slaughter you or just keep you as an ornament.'"
She paused, the weight of those words pressing down on her.
"I became a writer to escape that fate, but even my words were consumed. My books became decorations, my covers nothing more than a cage."
She could hear Ariel's nails tapping against the glass, but she didn't turn.
"I realized something," Gazelle whispered, walking deeper into the circus. "This world, I thought I didn't know? I know it better than anything else."