POV: Sera WintersThe healing halls smelled like blood and antiseptic.Pack members lined the cots some shifted back to human form, nursing wounds, while others remained wolves, too injured to manage the transformation. Miriam moved between them with practiced efficiency, checking wounds, adjusting bandages, prioritizing who needed immediate attention and who could wait.I stood near the entrance, watching and feeling useless.“Don’t just stand there,” Miriam called without looking up. “Come help.”I walked over. “I don’t know what to do.”“You’ll learn.” She gestured to a young wolf on the nearest cot male, maybe early twenties, with deep claw marks across his ribs and blood matting the gray fur. “Place your hands on the wound, right here.”I knelt beside the cot. The wolf’s eyes tracked me, glazed with pain, his breathing shallow and rapid.“I don’t know how to heal,” I said.“You do. Luna healing is
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