A Wolfgirl’s Pet Witch Ch. 07 (Patreon)

November 14, 2022

NOTE: And I got this one edited too.

As I mentioned, stories like this, that are ‘bonus,’ are ones that I tend to write on-and-off for a while, and then I eventually edit and bulk upload chapters in a short period of time.

The downside is that there is no commitment to continue the story anytime soon, but the positive is it can be a nice surprise every once in a while.

<< Chapter 6 | Chapter 1

- CHAPTER 7 -

I laid in bed wide awake, my head squished against Rose’s breasts, staring at the ceiling as she slept soundly wrapped around me. I could hear her heart beating calmly in her chest and it was all I thought of as the minutes slowly slipped by, my numbness having slowly been replaced with her love and warmth, my mind otherwise blank.

I hadn’t slept at night in three weeks now, and I certainly wasn’t tired now.

And yet…I felt drained.

It was all I could do to just lay here. I didn’t have the energy or motivation to do anything else at all, and yet I couldn’t sleep either.

Didn’t want to sleep.

Refused to sleep.

I was afraid to close my eyes.

Afraid of being tugged back into the forest, tugged back into the hunt that had consumed everything I had to give for far longer than I wished had been required of me.

Being the scythe of the reaper was…

Exhausting.

Demanding.

Far too demanding of me.

Required more than I had to give.

I never wanted to become the instrument of death ever again, and yet…

I knew I would, if again required of me.

However, Rose’s heartbeat, her embrace, her warmth, her very presence…

Slowly, very slowly, allowed me to close my eyes.

And when I did, there was only her there.

Just her.

The tension in my body slowly began to lessen, and finally I found another form of reprieve.

Sleep.

Rest that wasn’t disrupted when Rose eventually left the bed, likely in the early morning, after spending a long time planting gentle kisses on my face. Rest that wasn’t disrupted when we had visitors, likely around midday, even if I briefly became aware enough to comprehend their conversations, like a waking dream.

“How is she?” a concerned male voice asked somberly.

Rose’s tone was full of worry and sympathy. “Still asleep. She…” Rose couldn’t seem to find the right words. “You know…”

The man swallowed loudly. “The girls? Or the killing?”

“Probably both,” Rose admitted quietly. “She told me she lacks empathy when she’s a wolf, but it still affects her once she’s back to her normal self. She…wasn’t okay…last night. Never wanted to…” Her voice trailed off.

“Killing is traumatizing for anyone. Man or woman, doesn’t matter. Men who have survived wars often take years to recover. Some never do.”

“She’s the reason why no one died,” Rose whispered.

“I know,” he replied simply. “Trust me, I know. That’s why I had to come, even though the mayor demanded everyone give her space. I had to thank her.”

“How is your daughter?”

“She’s…she’s alive, at least. Has a fever. We’re…hoping for the best. She’d be dead without Ariana’s fast thinking.” The man took a shaky breath, sounding emotional. “She said they were about to cut her throat when Ariana saved her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rose said sincerely. “She’s awake then?”

“In and out. Couldn’t sleep at first due to the pain, but now can barely wake up.” He sniffled. “I can’t lose her too. Ever since my son was chosen for the sacrifice…” His voice trailed off.

He couldn’t continue.

My eyes unexpectedly flew open in alarm, my mind fully aware.

The yearly sacrifice.

Petra knowing my name.

Her older brother had been chosen when she was just a young girl.

When my father was still alive.

The shepherd boy had been replaced with a shepherd girl.

Something the little girl insisted on.

Insisted that she wanted to live with the flock like her brother did. Like he had done. Insisted it was what she desired most. Only a young girl, sleeping under the stars, sleeping in the rain, sleeping in the snow, sleeping with her flock. Distancing herself…from her family…

Like I had done with my own mother…

After my father was chosen, a few years later.

Petra knew my name.

Not because she’d known my grandmother was the wolf, or that I might have any connection to the wolf, but because we were the same. And so, she knew my name. The name of the girl who lost her father just like she lost her brother. The name of the girl her age who pulled away from everyone else, and detached herself from the world. Existing within it, but unable to be a part of it.

Yet, she wasn’t surprised that I was a werewolf.

Wasn’t surprised that the white wolf who leapt on her, and defended her, turned into a girl her age.

She’d clearly been informed of the events that had transpired in the last three weeks. She’d been aware that Ariana the Wolf abolished the yearly sacrifices. Perhaps she’d even been aware I’d been chosen myself.

Perhaps she even grieved for me when she found out, at least before being told that there was no werewolf coming to get me.

Since I was the werewolf.

Not the one who killed her brother.

Not the one who killed my father.

But a monster just the same.

A monster who came to save her…in her time of need.

I was pulling on a pair of leather trousers and slipping on a tunic before my mind even fully registered that I was out of bed, my body and thoughts feeling disconnected from each other. I felt like I was still asleep as I walked out of the bedroom to find Margaret and Mabel working on a meal, perhaps lunch, the two girls turning toward me in surprise when they heard me, neither saying anything as I ignored them and headed straight for the front door.

Rose jumped when I opened it abruptly, with me focusing on Hugh’s surprised and tired face.

He immediately got down on one knee and clasped his hands together as if in prayer, bowing his head.

“Thank you so much,” he said without hesitation, his voice becoming emotional again. “Thank you for saving my daughter. For saving Petra.”

I couldn’t respond.

I didn’t know what to say.

I still felt asleep. Felt numb.

Rose wrapping her arms around my shoulders and leaning her head against mine was what helped my mind focus. Realizing there was something I wanted. Something that I needed.

My tone felt raw, my voice sounding hoarse.

“Can…Can I see her?” I whispered.

His response was immediate. “She’s been asking for you. Every time she rouses, she says your name.”

My body tensed, my eyes stung, my hand grasped at my chest, where I thought my carved wolf head should be, wishing to grasp it for comfort, only to find it was gone. Instead grasping at my shirt, at my chest, at the pain that ached in my heart.

It hurt.

I hurt.

“Please,” was all I could manage.

Hugh immediately stood up and began leading the way.

Rose and I stepped off the porch and followed, her arm around me tightly.

Like us, he lived on the edge of the village. We didn’t have to walk through in order to get to his house, though we still saw people here and there. No one tried speaking to me, but not a single one ignored me when they saw us. They all stopped what they were doing to stare, motionless as if ceasing all tasks to show me reverence while they were in my presence. To show there was nothing so important that it couldn’t wait while I was near.

I didn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

Most of the houses in the village were almost identical, the only major differences stemming from the varying generations of men who built them. The houses closest to the river were exactly alike, the ones just beyond that slightly different but all the same, the pattern continuing as the village expanded outward away from the river. Generation after generation, more houses slowly built to accommodate the slowly growing population.

Which meant, Hugh’s house was the same as mine.

Especially since both his family, as well as the widow who passed, had the resources from their respective trades to have something new and nicer built, compared to the rest. Something more spacious, more sturdy, more accommodating.

Petra was on a wool mattress in a bedroom she never slept in, her breathing even but her sun-tanned face flushed with fever.

It was to be expected.

The price to save her life.

But would she recover? Or would the illness that plagued her take her life? Was there anything else I could have done to stop her from bleeding to death? Putting pressure on her gut certainly wouldn’t have done much, not when she was already struggling to breathe.

Her mother had apparently left to get fresh water from the river, and so wasn’t home when we arrived. There was a chair in the room next to the bed, and I didn’t hesitate to sit in it. Hugh gave us a small smile, just before closing the bedroom door, clearly trusting that the wolf that saved his daughter’s life could be trusted alone with her.

I heard him walk into the kitchen, making it clear he had no intentions on eavesdropping if we ended up talking.

Rose stood behind me in the chair, resting her hands on my shoulders, even as I looked the girl over as she rested in bed.

She really was almost exactly my size.

Shorter than most, like me. Small but perky breasts, like me. Thin waist and shapely hips, like me. Strong thighs…just like me. Delicate shoulders, thin arms, small hands and feet.

Heartbroken and numb, over losing someone she loved…like me.

I reached out for her limp hand, slowly grasping it with both of my own, feeling the warmth of her fingers seep into mine, even as Rose’s warmth seeped into my shoulders. The yearning that filled my heart was overwhelming, pulling me forward, tugging me toward her, my jaw tensing, my mouth watering, my throat tight.

A vision of an arm with crescent moon cuts flashed before my eyes.

A bite.

From the strong jaws of a person.

A monster in human skin.

My own memory of my own bitten arm.

I abruptly stiffened and forced my body to relax, again shocked by where my mind, my body, had unexpectedly gone. A yearning so powerful that I didn’t understand where it came from. So I forced the tension to leave my body.

However, I couldn’t force myself to sit up fully straight again, still leaning forward in my chair.

Petra’s eyes fluttered then, and she peeked at me through her thick eyelashes, her hand reflexively tensing when she realized who was holding it.

“Ariana,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut and then trying to open them more fully.

She managed, squeezing my hand a little harder.

“It hurts,” she added quietly.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

She squeezed her eyes again and shook her head just barely. “Thank you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

I knew what the usual response was, but had not said it a single time to anyone. Couldn’t say it, even now.

When I didn’t say anything, she opened her mossy eyes again.

So beautiful.

So richly green.

“I…” She grimaced. “You…” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “We…”

“I want you,” I unexpectedly whispered, shocking myself.

Rose’s hands tensed on my shoulders and Petra’s eyes widened…only for her expression to become pained…

With longing.

“To…” I tried to continue. “To get better,” I added with a pained expression.

Her expression pained too.

Rose’s hands gently squeezed my shoulders, her tone endearing. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “How you feel, Ariana…it’s okay.”

Petra focused up at her, looking a little confused.

I sighed heavily, tightening my grip on the girl’s hand. She shifted her emerald gaze back to me.

“I want you,” I repeated quietly, not amending it this time.

Her hand tightened in mine.

She tried to swallow, struggling with it. “Okay,” she whispered.

My eyes were searching her face as I tried to continue. Tried to think of the words to say. I finally took a slow deep breath. “Petra, if…” I took another deep breath. “If you can hold on for a week, I can try to fix you. Make you better.”

Rose’s hands tensed on my shoulders.

Petra was confused. “H-How?” she managed.

“It’s dangerous,” I whispered. “And I only know what my grandmother told me. That most people would die…if I bit them…on the night of the full moon.” I paused when her green eyes widened in alarm. “But I won’t force that on you, if you don’t want me to. My grandmother didn’t give me a choice. She said she knew I’d survive because I was her granddaughter. Because we were related. And she said that she knew when I was ready…because she had the urge to bite me. The urge to change me. The urge to turn me into a monster, like her.”

Petra stared at me, unblinking.

Rose’s hands were frozen in place on my shoulders.

“Most people would die,” I repeated quietly. “If I bit them on the night of the full moon. Most wouldn’t survive. But…” I tightened my grip on her hand. “Petra, I really want to bite you right now. I want to bite you so much that it almost hurts. Hurts as much as my heart hurts. I want to bite you just as much as I want you. And I desperately want you.”

She didn’t respond, finally blinking once, but still only staring at me, her face frozen in a stunned expression.

I took a deep breath, averting my gaze. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

My lover’s grip tightened, her touch and tone reassuring. “Why are you sorry?”

I struggled for words. “I…don’t think you’d survive…if I bit you.”

Her tone was gentle. “Ariana…I don’t think I want to be a werewolf. I want you,” she quickly clarified. “But…I don’t think I want that.”

“Okay,” I said simply, taking a deep breath.

I was sure it wasn’t possible anyway, especially after encountering Petra and experiencing this sensation for the first time. Something I hadn’t experienced with anyone else.

The desire to bite.

The desire to turn.

I focused on her gorgeous mossy eyes again, the rich emerald color so vibrant…

Imagining them gold, like mine.

Vibrant.

Alive.

My gut tensed at the thought.

I abruptly leaned forward all the way then, causing Petra to flinch and Rose’s hands to let go, even as I gently placed my lips on the back of her hand, kissing her tenderly. Rubbing my lips across her skin and planting loving pecks everywhere I could in the small space. I then turned my face and rubbed my cheek against her hand, before slowly sitting back up again.

Rose returned her hands to my shoulders.

Petra’s face was a different kind of flushed.

I parted my lips to speak. “Do…do I have your permission? To bite you?”

“O-Okay,” she managed. She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself. “I’m ready.”

I grimaced. “Has to be during the full moon,” I whispered.

Her eyes widened again. “While you’re so big?”

I shook my head. “No, that would be too dangerous. My mouth far too large. There’s a period of time just before the moonrise where I begin to uncontrollably transform. It’s slow, drawn out, and is the perfect time to bite someone…” My voice dropped, becoming more intense. “Someone I want to keep. Or also, technically someone I want to kill.”

She convulsively swallowed, her hand trembling slightly in my grasp.

“Can I have you?” I whispered.

“Yes,” she squeaked, her face flushing more.

“And Rose can have you too, if she wants?”

Her face began looking almost purple as she focused up at my lover, swallowing loudly. “If…if she wants,” she barely managed.

I glanced up at Rose in the corner of my eye, just as she nodded once at Petra with a reassuring smile.

I took a deep breath, returning my focus to Petra. “Please hold on until then. Try to get better, if you can.”

She grimaced. “I…I’ll try.”

“I’ll check on you every day,” I promised. “Be here, every day. If you want.”

Her tone was intense. “I want. Thank you,” she whispered sincerely, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “For that, and for saving me.”

“You…” I grimaced, only to take a deep breath. “You’re welcome.”

Rose gently squeezed my shoulders.

She knew.

She knew it was the first time I’d said it to anyone. So simple, and yet so hard for me to say. So hard for me to acknowledge that another person had good reason to thank me. A reason to appreciate what I’d done. That my actions hadn’t been solely for my own selfish reasons, but for the benefit of someone else.

I wasn’t a nice person.

But I also hadn’t saved Petra solely for selfish reasons.

And so, to her, I could acknowledge the valid appreciation.

The girl’s rich mossy eyes fluttered closed then, her hand going limp briefly, before she opened them. “I feel so tired,” she whispered.

My tone was gentle. “You can sleep. We’ll stay for a little while.”

She gave me a small weak smile. “Okay,” she replied softly, closing her eyes again.

We were all silent for a long few minutes as her expression became more peaceful, her full lips slightly parted as she slept.

Rose spoke up quietly, stepping to my side to look down at me. “I’ll go see my mom. There’s a root that can help with her fever, and I also know of a few other herbs and berries that may help too. I’ll make her a tea, and then we can go looking for the right berries that might help her. Oh, and garlic might help too, if we can get her to eat some.”

I nodded, giving her an appreciative look. “Do you want me to go with you?”

She gave me an endearing smile, before grasping my face in her hands and leaning down to press her lips to mine. “I love you, Ariana,” she said warmly. “You can stay here with her until I come back. And then maybe go with me into the forest to look for berries?”

“Of course,” I replied, kissing her again. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” she said emphatically, smiling as she turned to leave. “I’ll try to be back within the hour. Love you.”

And with that, she left.

I remained where I was, holding Petra’s hand as she rested. Her father checked in on me, asking if I needed anything. I declined, but ended up asking about the flock of sheep, out of random curiosity, since I knew they must have dispersed in response to my roars. He informed me they had several men rounding them up.

I simply nodded.

He gave me a sort of sad smile, and then closed the door again.

Her mom came home with fresh water, but didn’t bother the two of us for a long time upon finding out I was visiting.

Petra woke up again, saying she was thirsty.

I let her mom know and she came into the room to assist her while I stood in the corner out of the way. I could sense that the woman was conflicted. Very wary of me, almost seeming afraid, more so than when they delivered the wool mattress two weeks ago, but also thankful too. She barely looked at me, didn’t talk to me, and didn’t ask anything of me.

At one point, she wanted help, but asked her husband, even though I was right there.

Maybe she forgot I was present, with how short I was.

Even though her daughter was the same height.

It didn’t matter.

I didn’t mind.

It was smart to be wary of me.

Smart to be afraid.

I was a monster after all, even if I hadn’t chosen to be.

The woman left the room and I finally sat back down in the chair. Petra gave me a weak smile, but we didn’t talk. Slowly, her eyes closed again, and she fell back asleep.

Rose finally returned, but didn’t come into the bedroom, instead talking with Petra’s mother and explaining what the various roots and herbs were that she’d brought. They got a fire going and began making a tea, eventually coming back in to give her some. Petra drank willingly, but tried to refuse the garlic Rose had brought, almost seeming half asleep as she argued that she didn’t want to eat it.

Becoming slightly delirious, perhaps.

Wouldn’t listen to Rose.

Wouldn’t listen to her mom.

I finally spoke up quietly, asking her to eat it, my tone soft and gentle. A request only.

She ate the garlic.

Her mom kept looking at me after that, but didn’t say anything. Kept glancing at my somber expression, as if she was trying to understand something that eluded her, but didn’t ask outright whatever was on her mind. She seemed less tense though.

Less afraid.

Rose and I finally left to look for berries. Most varieties wouldn’t ripen until late summer at the earliest, but it wasn’t uncommon to find a plant that blossomed early. There was a particular kind she wanted, small and black, tasting tart if not outright sour even when fully ripe, but supposedly good for Petra’s illness. We found a bush and filled a basket with clumps of the small dark beads. They definitely weren’t fully ripe, but they would have to do.

It wasn’t until we got to the village that we parted ways again.

Terryn spotted me and said the mayor was looking for me. Wanted to see me, if possible.

I agreed, and Rose took the berries to Hugh’s house.

Bartolomeu was outside of the mayor’s office, speaking to Fairburne. The man who was normally in charge of guarding rule breakers, the same man whose brother had been slain by Margaret, was just coming out of the building with the large metal cage within. Though he didn’t look this way, and instead walked around the building.

For the first time since last night, I only now recalled that I’d left one man alive.

Was he still alive?

Even if I only broke his legs, I wasn’t sure he could have survived me pulverizing them so absolutely. The man would definitely never walk again, not that he would live long enough to recover anyway. If he wasn’t already dead, then he would be soon.

I’d kill him myself, as much as I didn’t want to have to kill again right now.

Both men stopped talking when Terryn and I came into sight, both focused on me silently. The same reaction as all the other villagers we came across, now that we were walking in plain sight where people were going about their daily tasks. I wasn’t sure what my face looked like, but I would best describe my mood as reserved.

I wasn’t angry.

I wasn’t happy.

I wasn’t in a bad mood, but also wasn’t in a good one.

Just neutral, and not in a scary way.

Or so I assumed.

Terryn spoke up, his tone friendly. “Found her. Looks like she and Rose had gone to gather some berries.” He glanced down at me, as he continued. “For Petra, I’m guessing.”

I didn’t confirm his suspicion.

Didn’t respond at all, not even meeting his gaze.

Terryn frowned, giving Bartolomeu a concerned look as we slowed down and stopped. The four of us standing there, none of us speaking as the mayor held my reserved gaze.

His tone was…almost like he was complaining, but in a ‘concerned father’ kind of way. “Ariana,” he began, stopping on my name alone for a few long seconds, before continuing. “This can wait,” he finally added.

I sighed heavily, averting my gaze. “I don’t feel like speaking a lot,” I admitted. “But I am fine with listening. And I’m fine with doing. I just don’t feel like talking. Don’t feel like explaining,” I clarified, returning my gaze to his. “I’ll answer questions, if you have them.”

They all exchanged a glance.

Bartolomeu’s expression was reassuring. “That’s very generous of you, Ariana. I mainly wanted to share with you what we found out from that man, and also wanted to make sure you didn’t have any plans for him.”

My expression darkened, causing them all to tense, including Fairburne. “My only plan for the bastard is to finish what I started.”

The mayor collected himself and nodded. “Do you want us to leave it up to you then?” he asked casually, as if we weren’t talking about an execution.

I turned my head away with a grimace. “Just get it done. Doesn’t matter who kills him, so long as he’s dead.”

“We’ll take care of him then,” he promised, his tone comforting again, like how Dante had spoken to me in the field, holding my face and reassuring me that everything was alright now.

Dammit.

I took a controlled breath, focusing up at him again. “So, anything useful?”

He grimaced. “We may have to be on guard for a while. He said their group is forty-nine large, including himself. A caravan of slavers. They pillage villages like normal bandits, but only as a distraction so they can steal away their real target. Young women.” He paused as he evaluated my gaze. “They attack in the daytime, since it’s easier to draw the men’s attention that way. Sneak in with other groups to snag unsuspecting young women while the men are scrambling to defend against the threat. No doubt the people assume they’re victorious when they fight them off and make the bandits retreat, but in reality girls have gone missing under their noses. Made it sound like they are extremely successful with this charade.” He paused, frowning now. “I know you took care of quite a few of them, but they may return for revenge. It’s unlikely they would be so foolish, but we would be equally as foolish to assume they won’t return. Especially since you saved all those girls, which they’ll view as stealing their property, I’m sure.”

I didn’t respond, simply holding his gaze.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Umm, that’s about all we could get out of him. He spoke freely. Answered our questions, in exchange for a promise to let him live. Of course, we aren’t going to honor such a promise,” he quickly added. “Not to a man like him.”

I didn’t respond.

Fairburne spoke up then, his tone hesitant as he shifted subjects slightly. “So…if you don’t mind me asking, how many do you think we have to watch out for?” He hesitated. “Do you know…how many you got rid of?”

“About fifty men,” I replied evenly.

All three of them froze solid in shock.

I said no more.

The mayor’s voice was strained. “You mean…”

“There will be no revenge,” I confirmed flatly. “No one left to get revenge. That man is the last one.”

He didn’t seem to know how to respond, sounding a little out of breath now. “Well, that’s…a relief,” he commented, almost as if he was trying to convince himself it should be a relief. Tried to remind himself that it was a good thing I’d tracked down and slaughtered fifty men with zero difficulty.

Zero opposition.

Zero hindrance.

There was nothing they knew of, in this world or beyond it, that could stop me from ending the life of someone I wished dead. Not even in numbers, did humans have any security. The only thing I needed to slaughter even an entire village was simply enough time.

Time to track down everyone who ran away.

Even Fairburne was speechless.

All those butchered bodies evidence of my unstoppable strength, and yet only now did he seem to understand.

I could see it in his eyes.

He was a very large muscular man, easily three times my size, and I could see the truth finally dawning on him. That even he, with all his human strength, was a mere insect to the short girl who stood before him. He wouldn’t even last a full second, if I chose to end his life.

He wouldn’t even survive if there were fifty of him to fight against me.

I didn’t think Troy’s father to be an overly slow man, but very obviously the cobwebs were only now clearing from his eyes. He finally understood.

An army of fifty men was nothing to me.

I was in perfect health…all while the blood and guts of fifty men lay soaking into the ground, simply because I had made the decision to end all their lives.

There had been no escape.

There would be no escape.

Not if I decided to slaughter someone.

After all this time, the man who dragged me out of my home on the night of the full moon, carrying me to my supposed death as the werewolf sacrifice, finally understood.

After a long few seconds, the mayor finally cleared his throat, causing me to shift my focus back to him. “Umm, and about the girls?”

“What of them?” I asked simply.

“They’re staying in Terryn’s barn for now, but we plan on building them a house. They want to stay with us, not even one of them wanting to try to find their way home. Not after what they’ve been through, and especially since it would require them traveling on their own to try to do so. However, they also want to remain together, and have agreed to do whatever we ask of them to help out. Agreed to pull their weight. A few of them do actually have some useful skills. One said her mother taught her to be a seamstress, and another said her entire family were bakers.” He paused. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any plans for them either.”

I shrugged. “No, not really. My plans for the first group of men was death. My plans for this second group of women is life. Simple as that.”

“Perfect,” Bartolomeu said warmly as he clapped his hands together, seeming sincerely thrilled by that response. “Then my only other question is whether or not you have need of anything?”

I frowned as I considered, crossing my arms too, my brow furrowed. “Unfortunately, the things I want are not things you have within your power to give.”

That surprised him. “May I ask what you want?” he wondered hesitantly.

I sighed, dropping my arms, my tone somber. “For Petra to not die,” I whispered honestly, only to abruptly turn around and walk away. Not caring about pleasantries and common courtesy right now.

He didn’t respond, simply watching as I left.

As I went back home.

Not to the house, but to where Rose was.

And also…

To where Petra was.

Not a physical place, but my home, nonetheless.

FEEDBACK: Thoughts on this part?

This is basically a recuperation chapter, where they kind of deal with the aftermath of everything that's happened. Discuss things, focus on next steps, etc.

Thoughts on where you'd like to see this story go from this point? (This is almost the end of the story I have written.)

Plot suggestions would be helpful.

Could be conflict (physical, social, etc.), people you want to see her interact with more, things you want to see happen, and other such stuff.

If you have a request, let me know.

Chapter 8 >>