Winter was harsh in the northeastern frontiers. The cold air from the mountains carried a chilling breath, painting the hills and fields white. But as winter’s end approached, the winds grew fiercer—howling with the arrival of spring, as if determined to drive the cold away.

  Amidst the biting gale and frigid air, a young girl was walking. She had forgotten to wear proper clothing to protect herself from the cold, dressed only in a velvet duster, the one worn by medicine practitioners in her vilge.

  Clutched close to her chest was a baby, wrapped in thick clothes to shield it from the freezing temperature. Her hair, once tied in a butterfly knot, had come loose, falling along her face, while her eyebrows curved with the weight of her sorrow.

  She had been tasked with ending the baby’s life, a grim order from her teacher, whom she had assisted during the child’s birth. The mother’s face fshed in her mind, etched with exhaustion after enduring a night of bor.

  The muddy ground clung to her feet, as heavy as the guilt that weighed on her heart. Searching for refuge from the crushing emotions, her teacher’s words echoed in her mind, vivid and sharp.

  It was in the dimly lit Doctor’s Hut in Ahas vilge, the closest thing the frontier had to a medical center, where her teacher had given the command.

  As the child's mother lost consciousness, the apprentice and the doctor wiped the blood from the child.

  It was mandatory for the doctor to check out the baby’s condition. Its limbs, fingers, and feet. Ensuring that the ears and the nose were cleared of any mucus. Still, the baby was not crying, so the doctor had to sp the baby’s feet to make it cry.

  “Uwaaa!!!” and it was a good effect.

  The baby was alive, but there were still a few checks that the doctor had to do. Grabbing the candle that was close by, he began waving it in front of the child. Although a baby couldn’t see as it had just been born, it could still detect light.

  “NO!!” The doctor muttered, almost dropping the candle in his hands. His student, Sierra, who was already cleaning up the used clothes, paused and approached him in wonder.

  “Sierra, take a needle and the yellow bottle, please!” But before Sierra came close, the doctor threw her a task.

  Dropping all she was doing, she followed the order. She knew that the yellow bottle was a container that contained the sleeping drugs concocted by her teacher.

  It was just in the cabinet in the same room.

  She took it along with a needle, then immediately gave it to her teacher.

  “Thank you… Sorry, Sierra, but I have another task for you…” With practiced hands, the doctor opened the bottle and dipped the tip of the needle into the contents of the bottle.

  “You have to kill this child; he is an abomination,” the doctor decred as he pricked the feet of the child. The baby instantly fell asleep after a few seconds.

  “Teacher… please repeat,-” but even after she finished her sentence, her teacher tapped his feet on the wooden floor.

  “Make sure to kill it, I don’t care how, just kill it and come back, or don’t come back at all!” It was an ultimatum coming from the doctor.

  Still, the apprentice wanted to know why she had to kill the baby, so she stood there motionless, she was thinking of the next words she wanted to say.

  “Look at this!” the teacher said as there was a small steam that was coming from the spot where the teacher pricked the baby; the wound was healing all by itself. The doctor covered the baby, expertly packing the child with thick clothes.

  The student just silently stared at her teacher as if she were waiting for the packing to finish. “Look at his eyes, it's different, something that Lady Zhisata had warned me before, and even the past doctors of the vilge!” the doctor said as he handed the baby to her student.

  The baby was fast asleep in her arms. By her teacher’s orders, she used her hands to open up the baby's eyelids. “Snake eyes?” she muttered.

  “Go on now, I will fix things here,” her teacher said as he resumed the cleaning job his student was doing earlier.

  ‘How about doing it yourself?’ she honestly thought. She bit her lips as she recalled the reason why she was fighting against the wind.

  She was already far from the vilge, and the mountain’s feet were approaching. She stopped to think of how she would dispose of the child.

  Looking around, she surmised her options.

  ‘A rock? Cover the baby in snow and let it freeze to death?’ As she began to weigh her options, tears uncontrolled began flowing from her eyes.

  She knelt as the weight of the actions she must do came crashing her, she kept on thinking. ‘Why! Why me!’ She was studying to be a doctor to save lives, not to take them. ‘This pure innocent child?’

  As a student, she had studied the possible mutations a human could have during birth. There were times when babies were born with something that altered their humanity, something akin to atavism.

  “Awooooo!!!” and then a sound that sent shivers down her spine echoed from the mountains.

  “Wolves…” ‘Maybe it is better this way.’

  Steeling her resolve, she stood up and began walking again, closer to the mountain. The mountain was called Mosspeak; there had been legends that a pack of wolves would sometimes visit there.

  Upon reaching a rge rock, she stopped. This was the spot where every fiber of her being was saying, ‘This is it.’ She pced the child near the rock.

  She didn’t understood herself as to why she had pced the child behind the rge rock, sheltering him from the wind and cold.

  “Goodbye, little one,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, before walking away with heavy steps.

  She paused. She could’ve sworn she heard the baby make a sound—

  But that was impossible.

  The thought alone only deepened the weight of guilt pressing down on her shoulders.

  HAVE PICTURE! CODE:001

  The child was bundled in thick clothes, offering protection for a time, but the biting cold and relentless snow would soon penetrate the yers and freeze the baby’s skin. As the wind howled, a four-legged, furry creature cautiously approached the scene.

  It was a rge lone she-wolf, with braids woven into the fur on her face—twists made from the hair of her cherished family. She approached the child with the purest of intentions.

  But just as she lowered her head to sniff the fragile bundle, her pupils shrank. A scent hit her—one that made her fur bristle and her breath hitch.

  ‘This baby is…’ But her thoughts were cut off as she saw the baby silent in tears.