Chapter 13 ☾ Safe distance

Opal POV I wake up cold, just like every other day. My nerves quaking and my joints clicking, I pull myself up and crawl out from under the fallen tree that blessed me with shelter. As soon as my paws touch the snow, I shiver. By the time this thing is over, I'm sure I'll hate the winter. Flecks of snow fall from my thick coat, and I shake the remnants off with a sniff of my nose. Staring up at the sky, I can already tell the snow is on its way once again. Every day gone by, the white sky dumps more cold fluff onto the landscape. Every. Single. Day. Energy leaking from my bones, I push forward, trying to list off everything I remember in my mind. Everything seems to be fading away slowly, but I don't want to let it slip away. Some things are foggy, but I repeat everything just in case. My name is Opal. I'm 23 years old. I'm a werewolf. I was born in West Virginia. My parents were murdered by rogue werewolves.