His hearing was the first sense to return. The swish of water was accompanied by the odd droplet pattering against fluid. Then, a cool sensation melted into his forehead and a sense of pressure worked its way through his skin.

  Stirring, Ian moaned and opened his eyes.

  Blinding light greeted him.

  Instinctively, he shut them again and recoiled, still seeing the inside of his eyelids as his head sank into something soft and yet firm. “Keep your eyes shut.” Came a quiet voice, the pressure fading away. “You’ve been out for a while.”

  He wanted to spring up, but the gentle pressure returned and with it, a soothing cold. Ian couldn’t resist, and he slumped back down.

  “How are you feeling?” asked the voice, a rustle reaching his ears as… a cloth was twisted? “You doing alright?”

  Ian bit his lip, trying to think of the right reply. But no words came, all he could conjure up was a nod.

  “Good, just relax.”

  Whatever was cooling him down helped bring each of his senses back to his life, effectively rebooting his body in an organic fashion. A light aroma of pine drifted up his nose. Something soft, but thin lay on top of him, which trapped him with a thin layer of warmth.

  And he felt no pain.

  W…where am I?

  “Alright…” the voice declared, “Try opening your eyes. Slowly.”

  Ian’s eyes slowly fluttered open. No blinding light came at him, but everything was a blur. A brown and grey shape drifted into view, peeling back another… hand? And the head, it was…

  A weak yelp escaped Ian's lips as kicked his legs into something hard, just past whatever material covered him. His eyes went wide and he yanked one hand out from under the sheet. He needed to claw for something, anything he could us-

  “Hey! Hey!” the Nyúlfur girl shouted, her features coming into focus. “Calm down! You’re safe!” she stressed, raising her hands and leaning back.

  He wanted to snap forward, throw a punch and a kick. Every instinct inside demanded that he fight this beast.

  But then he looked up at her, her eyes as wide as he imagined his were, flicking between him and his tightening fist. He shivered; there was no face of cruelty or rage in front of him. It wasn’t just the eyes but the way she had backed off all together, and had her hands open and raised in what looked like a borderline human gesture of peace.

  Her reaction was of shock and concern.

  Then the memory came back, the wolves clustered round the campfire… leaping towards him as he fell…

  They did help me… come on Ian, get it together.

  And with that, he lowered the fist.

  “Sorry…” he uttered, propping himself up on his elbows. “Last time I was...” he glanced down, finding a tan, lightly fluffy sheet over the top of him. He shook his head, “It… it’s something I’d rather forget.”

  She lowered her hands. “It’s fine, I didn’t mean to spook you.”

  Hesitating, Ian nodded back, looking over the wolf before him. Her fur was a light brown with little grey-white patches splattered across it. She wore a pair of black leather shorts paired with a grey sleeveless top over that fur, her hair – the more human looking hair - ran down to just short of her shoulders, itself a deeper, chestnut brown compared to the rest of her body. Grey eyes peered at him from where she sat at the edge of the bed, where a wooden bowl filled with water rested on her lap. She twisted a soaked cloth over it, “You don’t mind?”

  He delivered another nod, and the girl pressed the cloth against his forehead. Flipping her hand over, she lay the back of it against his skin. Ian nearly flinched, but he held himself from jerking again, instead electing to keep one eye on her, half expecting her to strike him. But instead, her head bobbed slightly with a sly smile. “Good.” She said with clear satisfaction, “Your fever’s gone.”

  “Fever?” he finally questioned as she peeled the hand back. “How… how long was I out?”

  “Just over a week.”

  “A week?” he replied a little bit more loudly than he planned.

  Her smile got that little bit bigger, “People have been out for longer you know.”

  Ian bit his lip, “Good point…” he admitted. It wasn’t the first story along those lines he had heard of; it made sense for the Nyúlfur to have at least heard of the same. Where or how though, he couldn’t say.

  “You’re still lucky to be alive.” She noted, “A lot of us thought you wouldn’t wake up. Internal bleeding and that.” She shrugged, “Must have gone through a lot, normally they would clot and stem the wounds before you run dry.”

  His mind ran back, falling from the plane, the gunshots… never mind what had happened in the river. It would have been near lethal – nay, almost certainly lethal for all but the luckiest humans. He thought the abdominal injury was bad looking, but did it hide something more serious?

  He managed a meek shrug, “You could say that.” It was the truth after all, even if it was at its most basic.

  She gave him a glance over, placing the cloth back into the bowl. “My name is Alika.” She said with a small smile, placing her hand against her chest, “What’s yours?”

  He started to reply, only to blink as the realisation hit him, leaving his to mouth work away in silence. A name… just… what would even work!?

  Travis may have seemed like a normal name, but Alika’s begged to differ. He didn’t know how Nyúlfur named themselves! What if he said something really strange or obviously human? Would it hint at his human origin here and now!?

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Damnit… I still need to think of something!

  The smile faded away, “If you need some time,” Alika started, turning away, “I can wai-“

  Then it came, out of the blue.

  “Audas.”

  She looked back at him, “Audas?”

  “My name.” Ian stated, nodding back as naturally as he could, “It’s Audas.”

  For a moment, he wanted to slap himself. But then, Alika’s smile reformed with no obvious malice. “Nice to meet you then Audas.” She replied warmly.

  Once more, he stared blankly back at her. Dumbfounded, he failed to notice a nervous smile forming across his face. “Thanks… nice to meet you too.”

  The urge to punch his leg came through, but he held his nerve as Alika flicked a strand of hair back. Okay… so she must think I’m a Nyúlfur… otherwise this would be going sideways well before I woke up.

  He let the smile fade, “So… where am I?”

  If she had them, he had the sense she raised an eyebrow up in response. In fact, he could just pick out a faint patch of darker fur when they should have been. “It’d be easier if I show you.” She explained, “Think you can walk?”

  Frowning, Ian stretched a leg out underneath the cover. His neck went stiff as he expected a jerk of pain. Instead, a wave of relief ran over him as what tension was in that leg promptly vanished. He let a sigh flow out of his mouth and his elbows melted beneath him. “I can…” he admitted, unable to stop himself from releasing the faint sigh, “I think. Just give me a few minutes.”

  “Sure thing.” Alika rose to her feet, taking the bowl with her. “Take the time you need. I’ve brought some spare clothes up for you that should fit.” She motioned towards a chest of metal drawers next to the bed. “I’ll wait outside.”

  Bowl tucked in one arm; she walked towards the door.

  Err, hang on a minute. Should I something? Anything else? Do Nyúlfur do really emotional stuff or – damn it, just say it.

  “Wait.” He called out, sitting upright. The Nyúlfur turned on her foot back at him. “Thank you.”

  She returned a thumbs up, “Anytime.”

  With that, she moved out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  Alone at last, Ian slid back downwards and let his head sink into the pillow. What the hell am I doing?

  Playing nice, of course. As of right now, he was a guest, or a patient at least. To throw any help back at them would be unwise at best and utterly stupid at worst. After all, he knew what those things were capable of…

  But that Nyúlfur… Alika… he… well. He didn’t know what to expect, but he definitely wasn’t expecting bedside manners and care.

  Or rather, the respect she showed.

  She just thinks I’m another Nyúlfur. If she found out otherwise, I don’t want to think about how she’d react.

  That dragged his own mind round towards the name he tossed out.

  Audas.

  It was the same name that Phillipe had pointed out in his old book, back on the canal barge after the fire.

  Ian didn’t know why he tossed the Audas name out of all those he could have potentially offered. Well, beyond uncertainty and perhaps some desperation? It didn’t matter now. Alika had accepted it. It was too late to change it now.

  A minute rolled by before Ian pushed himself upright and out of the bed to reveal he was down to a pair of baggy but fresh underwear. There was the wooden door on one side that the Nyúlfur Alika had moved through, a lit window opposite it and a single wardrobe in between them. Wooden walls surrounded him on all sides, made of what was plainly logs… a log cabin?

  As soothing waves ran through joints and muscles at the newfound movement, his gaze found itself aimed at a mirror. It rested on top of the drawers by the door. He didn’t need to look… but the gravity of his situation had long since settled onto him like a heavy cloak.

  Ian brought himself round to the mirror, narrowing his eyes as his new self drifted into view. His mind hadn’t been playing tricks on him. His Nyúlfur body was covered in golden brown fur, and he still had the darker brown hair on top. Only longer, and thicker than his original hair. He knew that at least part of his fur was white, but then he hadn’t realised that his chin, throat and part of his torso was actually completely covered in that colour. And his eyes… they were still blue but they seemed… larger than he was expecting. Not gigantic or cartoonish for sure, but still a notable difference compared to a human. Apart from that hairdo, he looked more like a mis-coloured fox than a wolf. But then again, he supposed wolves had their own fur patterns.

  Wait… how was he not able to see that white before-

  Injury. He cursed to himself.

  He couldn’t ignore the tail of course hanging behind him, again golden whilst topped with a white tip. Or the shorter muzzle or the lack of even one scar on his body. Hidden under the fur? Ian brushed a hand across his shoulder, the one that had been shot. Gingerly, he worked his fingers through the fur. Rooting around for anything.

  But he found nothing. Not even a phantom twitch ran through his skin. Even the abdominal wound seemed to have vanished entirely. No bandage, no blood, not even a faint ache… perhaps the fur looked slightly less thick in that area, but apart from that minute detail, he looked practically untouched by conflict.

  He shook his head, pulling the hand away. No point in thinking about it now, it probably just healed up. Who knows that other tricks they have under their sleeves?

  Pressing his hands against the drawers, he stared at his reflection. The tension in his face washed away, his eyes slowly relaxed and he pulled his lips from side to side.

  He sighed as the name issue remerged.

  He would have to abandon the name of Ian.

  Perhaps his original identity?

  Everything he was… everything he knew was gone in but a few hours to mere moments. He was a freak. A werewolf… a Nyúlfur.

  Was he even Ian anymore? He shivered at the thought, the possible consequences tossing him over as if he were a stray boat lost in a storm.

  As far as everyone back home is concerned… I’m dead. Ian, killed trying to escape a dying city…

  But… how can I even start over? Should I even be thinking of that?

  He chewed his lip, Well… I guess there is one way to start… sod it.

  He straightened up, his reflection following his movement. “Audas.”

  The reflection’s mouth moved in sync with his voice.

  “My name… is Audas…” he said, eyes focused on the reflection as it stiffened.

  He shoved the hesitation aside, took a breath. His duplicate nodded with him, “I am Audas.”

  Within a few minutes, he had pulled the last bit of clothing on. He still stood barefoot, but wore a pair of black shorts and a loose blue t-shirt, albeit still close fitting enough to show his outline. He leaned back towards the mirror, tugging the shirt down an inch as he inspected himself.

  Not bad. He thought, a little smile forming across the face of the reflection. White teeth flashing underneath his lips.

  Ian’s gut twisted at the sight of a smiling Nyúlfur… that monster he had become…

  The smile vanished.

  He stiffened, locking his eyes onto the reflection. “Audas.” He whispered to himself, hesitation wiped away. “My name is Audas.”

  With a final nod, Ian pulled away and pushed through the door.

  He strolled through a short corridor into a larger living room, where couches sat in front of a rocky, unlit fireplace. Alika was sat on one of the couches, “Looks like it all fits.” She noted with a fresh smile, “Ready to go?”

  He nodded, “As ready as I can be.” He admitted, ignoring that tight feeling in his gut. Still aware of the fact that he was talking to a Nyúlfur. A group who had killed humans with almost as much glee as the Ferals had. He had seen enough reports on it. Heard Jack and Ed mutter their curses about their kind more than once.

  But he couldn’t reveal that. He had to play along with the story that he was just another Nyúlfur. One who had got injured and needed help. At least until he could find out more or get away from this place.

  “Come on then.” She replied as she rose to her feet and moved towards another door. But as she rested her hand on the handle, she glanced back at him. For a moment, something ticked. A sense she was scanning for something, anything about him. The urge to step back or flinch even grew greater once again, scratching at the back of his neck.

  But he knew that was a mistake, and he willed the discomfort aside and held his ground.

  Finally, Alika turned, swung the door open and stepped out into the day.

  Ian… Audas took a final breath… and followed her into the new world.