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‘ I ’m not letting you in,’ Jon had said. ‘I don’t want my wolves bothered anymore.’

‘They’re not your wolves.’

But Jon had been adamant: no entry. Simon had driven round and round then gone home. At home, Rose asked too many questions, been too sympathetic, too pitying.

‘I’m sorry,’ she’d said. As if ‘sorry’ would help.

Simon just wanted to see Sky again. He barely knew her.

When she was a woman, she had a unique view of the world.

She thought he was a fool and yet loved him.

How could you love someone you barely knew, whose whole culture was different, who was a fool?

Her whole world was under trees or on plains, roaming, rising and settling like birds within a tight-knit bonded group.

Her rules were not his rules. Her family was large, complex, intertwined.

His was… Rose, rubbing along with him when they should have gone their separate ways years ago.

Sky walked along the edge of her social group and tiptoed over that edge into his world and then slipped back.

Simon went from place to place, searching out something to research, something to report on, another family, another group.

He slipped into an animal’s world for a while, forgetting the cameras and then marched back into his own, picking up casual girlfriends and serious accolades and then looking for the next project.

He had needed to see Sky. He could feel his body deteriorating. Whatever Andrew planned might be too late. Simon could feel the drag of the moon but it was gaining on him. If there could be a cure, then he’d be himself again. He could ask her to join him as a human to share his life.

He left home and drove away.

What does Rose do all day anyway? He thought. She has little secrets going on. She’s stepping out of darkness, tiny step by tiny step. I’m stepping into it. Rob would take care of her if she’ll let him.

He slowed, wondering why he thought Rose needed taking care of. How old fashioned. For a second, he allowed himself a smile, trying to imagine what she’d say if he suggested it. ‘I can look after myself thank-you.’

And yet and yet, for all these years, hadn’t he been looking after her while she was looking after him?

He had a sudden image of the day of the funeral, after everyone had gone, and there were just the two of them, standing in that big, empty house, holding hands as if they were children.

They had been so young. He remembered her face, just nineteen, scared, stunned, still with grief.

She thinks she looks after me, he thought.

But if she hadn’t needed to do it, where would she be now?

Beyond the town, there was a sharp bend in the road.

It looked as if more than one car had overshot it.

Simon pulled up on the grass and looked up the slope to the forest. There was a large tree overhanging the fence.

He stood still and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, slowing his heart-rate.

The wolves were near. The pack was close by. He could sense it.

Locking the car, he went up the slope and climbed the tree, then dropped down on the other side of the fence.

It was warm and peaceful under the trees.

He stood for a while, listening for the small noises, breathing in the scents of pine and creatures, of decay, of life, then he walked on.

He walked on and on until he found them, settled in a sheltered hollow.

The sentinel sniffed the air and after a moment, came forward to greet him.

It was an uncertain greeting. The wolf was puzzled, smelling him and taking his time to welcome him, as if they had not met for many years, rather than a few days.

In the end though, he was allowed through to the pack and sat down on the edge of the group, observing and being observed.

Sky, came forward but not very far, she stayed close to the senior female and lay down with her nose on her paws, watching him.

He wanted to lock eyes with her but this was a threat.

After a while, he yawned and lay down. He felt drowsy.

Time passed. He looked up at the tops of the pines waving against the darkening sky and closed his eyes.

A song woke him, it was soft and wordless, sounds which could mean nothing or everything.

It was dark, the quarter moon was too far down to illuminate much of the hollow through all those tall trees.

It took a while for his eyes to adjust, but then he saw her.

She was standing by the pine closest to him.

Simon could barely make her out but knew she was naked and shivering.

He sat up. ‘I miss you,’ he said.

‘I am afraid,’ she whispered back.

‘I won’t hurt you.’

‘I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid for you.’

‘Andrew will make me better.’

‘Maybe. That’s not what frightens me. He is here. They want to hurt us.’ Her voice stuttered as she came forward and knelt by him.

‘Who do you mean?’ he reached out for her, but she leaned away.

‘And I miss you but I don’t know what to do,’ she said.

He could hear tears in her voice and her body shuddered. It was no wonder, he was fully dressed, yet chilled to the core. He stretched out for her again, but she still kept out of reach. He dropped his hand.

‘Change back,’ he said, choking. ‘Change back. It’s too cold for you to be human.’

She nodded and curled up on the ground. He couldn’t see properly in the gloom but was aware when the shivering ceased and after a few moments, a wolf stood and shook herself. Sky pushed her nose into Simon’s cheek and then walked back to the pack.

He sat still for half an hour as the wolves settled into sleep.

The night grew darker and the moon rose higher.

The sentinel made a soft noise and the pack woke.

It stood as one and trotted off under the trees.

Sky, in their midst, was the only one looked back.

Simon rose to his feet, pins and needles making him wince.

He would not be able to follow them at that pace.

He wondered what had spooked them and peered round.

Another man, an impossible man was standing a few metres away.

‘Old?’ he whispered and shone his phone torch. There was no one there, just a random trunk, his mind playing tricks.

It was late. His bones ached and the nausea was increasing.

Simon reorientated himself and headed back to the edge of the forest. It was not as easy to climb over the fence, his limbs stiff and his hands cold.

When he dropped to the other side, his ankle twisted and he limped back to the car.

There was another car behind it and someone was poking about, looking inside.

He slowed, checking his phone for a signal and finding none.

Still, the other person was smaller than he was.

He drew nearer and found it was a woman. She was apologetic.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I saw the car and wondered if you were hurt. People have accidents all the time at this spot.’

‘You shouldn’t stop in the dark like this,’ he said, trying to work out if he recognised her, in the darkness, barely visible. ‘You’ve no idea who I am,’ he went on. ‘This could have been a trap.’

‘Oh, I know who you are. You’re Simon Henderson. I know your sister, Rose. I’m Imogen. Tell her I said “hi”.’

‘OK, I will,’ he wished she’d go away and realised he was being ungracious. ‘And thank you, I’m fine. Just having a walk. But really, don’t do this sort of thing again, just drive on and call the police.’

‘Och, we don’t bother with the police out here,’ she said as if he’d suggested she needed a pest exterminator.

‘Well anyway.’

‘Dear me, you look freezing, I’ve got a flask in my car and some cookies. Doesn’t do to drive out here without supplies, in case you break down miles from anywhere, although maybe you’ve brought your own?’ She rummaged about in her car and poured something out. Steam rose.

‘Er no, but really…’

‘Och it’s no trouble,’ she said. ‘It’ll just warm you up for a wee while till you get home.’

She handed him tea and he didn’t like tea, but the warmth from the cup contrasted with the ice within.

He took a few sips. It was just hot water really, that’s why he disliked it so much.

No body to it, but he was so cold, he gulped it down.

His stomach gurgled. Simon remembered he hadn’t eaten all day.

‘Go on now, have a biscuit, home-made and everything.’ Imogen put something in his hand. It was soft and crumbly.

‘No nasty additives, then,’ he said. ‘Thank you, that’s really kind.’

She said nothing. The biscuit was sweet and spicy. It melted in his mouth. He washed it down with the last of the tea and handed the cup back.

‘I’ll be away then,’ said Imogen. ‘Go careful now.’