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Bastian
Holy fuck, my head!
Gingerly, I pull myself into a sitting position on the ground. I don’t know where I am nor how I got here; all I know is that my head is killing me.
When I finally right myself, I slowly move my head to look around. The place looks like Dalgaard forest, and I’m breathing fresh air. But it also doesn’t seem real at the same time.
I drag myself to my feet, clutching the nearest tree for balance.
“Either I’m getting old, or I got hit by a truck,” I grumble while massaging the back of my neck.
‘Neither,’ Comes a bored voice from behind me.
I spin on the spot, eyes wide when I see the large black wolf with snow-white ears. He’s lazily lying on his front, looking at me.
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