“You’ll come back tomorrow,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
Perhaps both.
Ookami-san lifted her head, eyes blazing. “I am a wild god. I do not go home with—“ Ookami-san wa Taberaretai
“Takeda-sensei,” the principal said weakly, “is that… a wolf?” “You’ll come back tomorrow,” she said
“She’s my wife,” Takeda said calmly, tasting the broth. Ookami-san lifted her head, eyes blazing
Her golden eyes studied him. “No. There isn’t.” Winter came early that year. The first snow buried the path, and the village council warned Takeda not to climb the mountain alone. But he thought of her ears drooping in the cold, her tail tucked between her legs for warmth, and he went anyway.
She was leaning against the mossy base of an ancient cedar, one slender leg crossed over the other, a half-eaten onigiri pinched between her fingers. Her silver hair fell in a wild cascade over her shoulders, and two furry wolf ears twitched atop her head. A tail, thick and plush as a winter brush, curled lazily behind her. But it was her eyes that stopped him—golden, feral, and for a fleeting second, wide with alarm.