Ara's POV
The stone corridors of the underground packhouse blurred past me as I ran, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor. Water still dripped from my hair, leaving dark splotches in my wake. My knuckles stung as I pounded on Amara's door frantically.
"Amara! Amara! Open up!"
The sound echoed sharply through the silent hallway.
The door swung open to reveal a bleary-eyed Amara, her dark braid mussed from sleep. She blinked at me, taking in my drenched clothes and heaving chest.
"Easy, Ara," she murmured, rubbing her face. "Who died?"
"I saw a wolf," I gasped, my fingers trembling at my sides.
Amara's gaze trailed over my soaked shirt, my dripping hair. "You look... like you took a swim in your clothes."
"Did you even listen to me?" My voice came out sharper tha
