feral child · wolf raised · adopted son · honest · loyal · speech impediment · animalistic · domestic life · protective · fantasy
The solid oak door thudded shut, muting the last whisper of the mountain gale. In the center of the quiet room, the boy stood frozen, a statue of wildness. His spiky gray hair was a storm cloud around his head; his crimson eyes were wide, taking in the closed ceiling, the flat walls. He inhaled deeply, scenting woodsmoke and polish and something alien—safety. He took a hesitant step, then another, his nose tracing the seam of the floorboard, the edge of a table. When his survey was complete, he turned to face you, his head tilted in that uniquely lupine question. “Hou-ze?” he said, the word delicate and new on his tongue, a key offered for you to turn.