A Touch Unseen

I was sitting by the door, tightening the laces on my shoes, rifle propped against the wall beside me, when Mahlah - completely unclothed as usual - let out a long, troubled sigh.

“I feel like we haven’t done everything yet.”

I glanced up at her.
“You don’t think we’re going to survive?”

She hesitated, then gave the faintest shake of her head before lowering herself to the floor. She crossed her legs, the movement slow, resigned.

“I don’t, no. You saw what it did to me. What will it do now that it’s angry?”

My heart thumped hard.
“Why… why does it want to kill you, anyway?”

A strange smile touched her lips, as if she were remembering something mildly amusing. Then she grinned and winked.

“I killed its offspring.”

I froze.
“You did what?!”

She lifted her shoulders, casual, unapologetic.
“They were trying to eat me. It was self-defense.”

I stared for another long second, then nodded.
“That makes sense. So what are we supposed to do?”

“Fight it,” she said simply. “Try to kill it first.”

I gestured toward the rifle.
“Will this not kill it?”

Another shrug.
“I don’t know.”

Her voice softened, almost melting.
“I just want to be happy…”

“But we have been happy, haven’t we?” I asked gently.

She nodded, but sadly.
“Yes… but there’s still more I want to do. So much more.”

My voice dropped.
“What do you want to do?”

Her eyes brimmed, then overflowed. Tears rolled down her cheeks - not slowly, but with a kind of rushed finality, as if her body had decided it was time to mourn. She truly didn’t believe we had a chance.

“I want to dance with you… I want to go on vacations with you… I want to show you more of my side of the world… and I want you to show me the human side of the world.”

I abandoned my laces entirely and shuffled over to her. She leaned into my shoulder, but I could tell the fabric between us frustrated her - the way all clothing did.

“And I want to grow old with you…” she whispered, voice breaking. “I want to live all of life feeling loved… I don’t want it to end now.”

I pulled her closer, rubbing slow circles on her shoulder as she sobbed, working through the words like they physically hurt.

“And… and I want… I want you to be like me…”

I lowered my voice.
“Like you?”

She nodded, little strands of silver hair trembling around her face.

“I wish you were an Amarok… so that you’d be comfortable with being naked all the time…”

Despite everything - despite the fear gnawing at my gut - I chuckled.
“That’s what’s bothering you?”

She nodded again, sniffling. Even in heartbreak she could be adorably earnest.

“Well,” I said softly, “if we survive, I’ll try to be more like you. How does that sound?”

That earned a tiny nod, though tears still slipped down her cheeks. I noticed that the moment they fell from her skin, they froze solid, hitting the wooden floor with a faint clink like coins. It wasn’t natural - the house was warm enough that tears shouldn’t freeze at all.

“What if we don’t survive?” she whispered.

I held her a little tighter.
“Then we don’t survive. Is there more to it than that?”

She shook her head, then hesitated.
“I mean… after. Where do we go? What if humans and Amarok go different ways? What if… we never see each other again?”

“We can’t control that,” I murmured.

“I know…” She closed her eyes. “But I want to.”

I gave her a small smile.
“Then we have to survive.”

I nodded toward my rifle.
“Besides, it’s entirely possible I shoot it once and it drops dead.”

She gave a fragile, wavering nod - unconvinced, but just a little comforted.

“Okay…”

I stood and offered her my hand.
“Let’s go kill this thing and come back like new people. Together.”

She hesitated. Her grey eyes were rimmed with the very last of her unshed tears… but she pressed her lips together, breathed once, and took my hand. I pulled her up, her long silver hair cascading over her body, and didn’t stop pulling until she was in my arms.

The moment our faces neared, she blinked in surprise - but only for a heartbeat. Then she reached up, wrapped her arms around my neck, and melted into the kiss. Her tears slid onto my cheeks as she pressed closer, desperate, clinging to every second our hearts still had.

All I could do was kiss her back, praying with everything in me that no matter what happened out there - we would find our way to each other again.

We trekked through the snow, Mahlah in her wolf form towering above me, my rifle swinging at my hip. The sun hung high, a pale disc behind thin clouds, but the cold was biting - the snow underfoot was still solid, refusing to melt. Mahlah didn’t seem bothered. In her wolf shape she moved like a creature carved from winter itself, her great plume of a tail trailing behind her, ears twitching constantly as she scanned the world around us.

I swallowed down the fear creeping up my spine and tried to keep my voice even as I broke the silence.

“What does a Kowhao look like?”

She kept her eyes forward, alert and unblinking.
“They have many forms, but this one is like a giant bear - only pitch black, like a shadow given flesh. And it has tendrils growing out of it. Shadow-like as well.”

I tried to picture it. My imagination wasn’t bad, and I felt like I had a decent mental image by the time I lifted my rifle, sighting down the barrel at nothing.

“A bear. That’s good. I’ve killed bears.”

She let out a soft chuckle.
“So have I. But this isn’t a bear.”

I shrugged.
“I’ll treat it like it has the vitals of a bear, then.”

Another amused rumble escaped her.

“Hopefully it’s decided to put its vitals there.”

I blinked at her.
“They can choose where their vitals are?”

She nodded.
“When they’re taking a physical form, yes. That’s part of what makes them difficult. That and their abnormal strength and speed. And they can take a new form if they wish, though that takes time.”

A shiver cut through me that had nothing to do with the cold. Freaky didn’t begin to cover it.

She continued, voice lower.

“Of course, there are other ways to subdue them. Sometimes, with enough effort, you can make them submit. And then they’ll do your bidding-”

Suddenly she growled - low, deep, and unmistakably threatening.

“He’s here,” she warned. “Approaching fast. Get ready.”

She lowered her stance, limbs braced, muscles coiling beneath her silver fur. Her hackles lifted, giving her an even more immense silhouette. I followed her gaze, raising my rifle and squinting down the sights. A round was already chambered - I’d cleaned the weapon just yesterday - but no amount of preparation could make me truly ready.

I knew Mahlah felt the same. I could see the tension running along her shoulders, the way her tail stiffened behind her. A sudden urge to blurt out something - some clumsy, final declaration of love - rose in my chest, but the words stuck somewhere between my heart and throat.

A roar shattered the silence.
Not the roar of a bear - something deeper, darker.

Branches cracked like bones snapping under immense force. Whole trees split down the middle with thunderous cracks as something huge plowed through the forest toward us. A smear of darkness - fluid, shifting - flashed between the trunks.

My finger tightened around the trigger.

Whether we lived or died, one thing was certain: whatever happened here, whatever price the world demanded, we would face it together.

Together until the very end.