#Chapter 134: She-Wolf

Iris The evening breeze drifts through the open windows of the ranch house, carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. Miles is already fast asleep in bed, worn out from a day of playing with the ranch hand’s children and helping feed the baby goats. Apparently, he had a blast and got along exceptionally well with the other kids. Now, after a talkative dinner and a bedtime involving a few tears because Miles had a minor exhaustion-induced meltdown, the house is blissfully quiet except for the occasional creak of the old wooden beams and the sound of paper rustling as Arthur reads a book on the couch across from me. I sit cross-legged in an armchair with my sketchbook balanced on my knees. My pencil moves almost of its own accord, tracing lines that gradually form the outline of three figures on horseback. I smile as I sketch Miles’s expression of wonder, his little hand pointing toward the ridge where the she-wolf stood watching us yesterday. Arthur’s gaze fol