“Mop,” Rae whispered. “Nessa.” She staggered backward.

Still growling, the wolf crouched lower.

“No…,” Rae said.

But even as the word no was escaping her lips, even as she backed farther away, the wolf was already springing toward her, its whole body—all snarling fur and fang and slaver—flying toward her.

“No!” Rae cried, cowering. She hid her head beneath her arms.

She felt its body, the heat rising from its fur, brush over her skin; she felt its claws graze her arm; she waited to feel its fangs shake through her flesh, waited to feel herself being torn from her bones… but no wolf mouth gripped her; no hot shredding came. Instead, from behind came a wild snarling, a heavy-bodied tussling, a high-pitched yelping, and Rae turned to see two wolves twisted together, jaws open, searching, snapping, each desperately seeking the other’s throat.

“Oh!” Rae did not pause to think. She ran. She ran across the field, half stumbling through the high grass, down the hillside, toward the stream, half-aware of the growling, squealing animals still twisting in the weeds behind her. “Mop! Nessa!” she cried as she reached the stream. She leapt from rock to rock, slipping, sobbing as she tripped again and again on the wet stones and uneven bottom, terrified that at any moment she would feel the weight of a wolf crashing upon her back.

“Mop! Nessa!” She had reached the other side. Nessa was in the doorway, Mop by the barn holding a lamb in his arms. She ran toward them, still stumbling in her terror, and as they heard her desperate footfalls, her wild cries, they looked up, startled.

“Rae, whatever is the matter?” Nessa hurried out, her face gray with fear.

“Rae, Rae, what’s come over you? What is it, child?” Lamb still clutched to his chest, Mop rushed toward the red-faced, sobbing girl.

“Wolf,” gasped Rae as she collapsed in their arms. “Oh, Mop, Nessa, a wolf!”

“What’s that, Rae? What did you say?” Mop and Nessa, embracing her, held her then at arm’s length, looking over her, looking for whatever harm had come to her. “What has terrified you so?”

“W…” Rae glanced over her shoulder. The hillside was empty: She saw no sign of the beasts that had grappled at each other. “W…,” she murmured again, now unsure.

“Daughter. Tell us what has frightened you. Are you hurt? Did you fall?” Nessa ran her hands over the girl’s ankles, over her scalp feeling for a wound.

“N-no.” Rae shook her head. “No. I’m not hurt.” She looked again at the hillside. The field was empty, the grass swaying in silver waves with the wind. She had never seen a wolf in the hills until she sang her song. Her stomach clenched with guilt. Was it her fault? Had she brought them here? Would they hunt the sheep? Would Mop and Nessa be angry?

“I fell asleep in the field,” she said. She could not look them in the eye.

“So you did. You’re all flushed with heat, child. Look at your skin. You’re drenched.” Ness wiped the girl’s cheeks while Mop looked on, his brows turned with worry.