The wolf sat upon a damp and rotting log, not really doing much of anything. There really wasn't much to do, to be perfectly honest. Every day here was the same, each as miserable as the one before. And every day the wolf thought, 'Will this day be my last?'.

  Today was a rather clear one here in this corrupted prison. Most days the reddish-purple miasma hung thick on the ground, slowly choking the life out of all beings. There were even many days where the fog was so thick that it filled the whole swamp, from the mossy damp ground to the very apex of the magical dome that encased them.

  But, today the sky was clear enough that the wolf could make out the faint shimmer of the dome and the almost white clouds beyond it. Some centuries ago, he may have found some pleasure in that. But as he sat, slowly dying, he couldn't even muster up that much effort.

  But there was something that even he, in his apathy, could not ignore.

  For the first time that he could remember, there was a fluctuation in the dome. He thought it was a trick of the light at first. Maybe a stray beam of true sunlight had actually broken through the ever-present cloud cover?

  Then the brief fluctuation turned into an almost constant, shimmering thrum against the barrier. It was odd enough that it brought the old wolf to his feet, shaking half-rotted leaves out of his grey and patchy fur.

   He projected outward with his mind in the manner of speech his kind always used. Normally he would not have bothered, but he knew that this day he was not the only being wallowing in this particular patch of swamp.

  
  Both beings once had names, but neither could remember what they had been. Frankly, it really didn't matter anyway. What use were names to the dead? What use were names for beings that were designated to be forgotten?

  The raven ruffled its dull feathers. Just like the wolf, it looked sickly and near death. Its talons were scabby, and its dark eyes dull. Neither the wolf nor the bird had ever been fond of one another, but, if you were going to die, you may as well die in company.

   Admitted the wolf as both animals gazed up at their invisible roof.

  The raven made a croaking noise that the wolf knew to be its version of a derisive snort.

  Another flash zipped over the dome, the epicenter of which was a dim light, seeming to be directly against the magical wall.

  The wolf was about to settle back on the log, giving it up as nothing more than an irrelevant oddity, when there was a loud crack, echoing over the silent swamp and causing him to pin his ears back.

  
  The wolf watched, wide-eyed and engaged as he hadn't been in years, as a light seemed to be slammed against the barrier. He thought it would slide off at first, but, as he watched, the light seemed to solidify.

  There was another flash, and a literal hole shattered through the shield. For the briefest of seconds, the wolf thought that the barrier might have finally come down. But no such luck. As the newly solidified object plummeted toward the swamp, the aura that covered them resealed.

  He brushed aside the disappointment. He had been foolish to have gotten his hopes up anyway; no need to linger on it. Instead, he decided to focus on the object, squinting in an attempt to get a better look at the thing.

   Said the raven, head tilted.

  The wolf didn't like the raven, but he knew better than to question the avian's eyes.

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  Almost as if they could not help themselves, the unlikely pair made their way in the direction the being had fallen. It was an effort to walk, and he was sure the raven found flight just as exhausting, but they went all the same. It was the first interesting thing to happen in a long time. Besides, if it was a human, then it would now be a dead one. A dead human meant a meal. Food was not easy to come by here amongst the miasma.

  He had little to no doubt the creature would be dead. Just going through the barrier would have killed it, much less the fall afterwards.

  So, imagine the pair's surprise when, as they made their way over a fallen tree covered in bearded moss, they saw a woman sitting in the shallow swamp water.

  Both creatures stopped dead, the wolf frozen mid-step and the bird landing on the log.

  She looked to be a human of a young adult age. Long, dark, black and blue hair, pale and clammy skin, and a slight, emaciated frame. She did not look well, but she absolutely looked alive.

  The woman simply sat there, her head moving slowly from side to side, as if she had just woken up and was very confused by her surroundings. Her slow and hesitant movement coupled with her sickly look led the wolf to believe that she was not well at all. She did not even attempt to get up or get out of the cold, swampy water.

   The raven asked in a whisper. Not that there was any need to keep his voice down. Only their own kind could hear their communications. But the wolf could understand the feeling of needing to be wary. Something about this woman was all wrong.

  He was about to answer the bird when the woman finally seemed to realize that she wasn't alone. She turned their way and simply stared blankly at them. But it was not the woman's demeanor that had the wolf and the raven suddenly shivering in their skin. No, it was the woman's eyes.

  Her long and limp hair was partially blocking them, but there was no mistaking that silvery glow anywhere. This was no human.

  "How is this possible...?" the wolf asked again, not exactly expecting an answer.

  Stated the bird.

  The wolf looked back at him and saw that the bird's wings were held limply at its sides as it too stared in awe at the creature before them.

  As for the woman herself, she still just gazed blankly back at them. She showed no alarm at being face-to-face with two wild animals, nor did she really acknowledge them at all, other than keeping her eyes locked on them. The wolf thought that she looked lost and unaware of her surroundings. Like she hadn't ever seen an animal before.

  Nervously, the wolf took a step forward.

   The raven hissed, fluffing up its thin and patchy feathers in agitation.

  The wolf had no answer to that. It was true that if they, even in their prime, could not get through it, it was very unlikely that this weak and sickly creature could have done it. Not without the Witch's aid. But he simply had a feeling that just wasn't the case.

  There was a simple innocence about this girl.

  Still, he was no fool and so approached with caution. Even as he made his slow progress toward the woman, she did not move. Just watched him. She blinked slowly and followed each of his footfalls, face blank.

  It was as he was nearly upon the woman that he could see that she was actually shivering quite badly. Normally the silver eyes meant something, and that something did not fall ill. So he was a little concerned when, as he drew nearer, he could smell a fever on her.

  The only way to know for sure that he and the raven's hunch were right would be to go up and touch her. At least, it was the only way to do it peacefully.

  So the wolf inched even closer, while he could hear the raven make agitated noises behind his tail. Ever so cautiously, the wolf stretched out his neck, never taking his eyes off of her silver, vacant ones.

  Then, his nose brushed against the pale skin of her bare arm.

  Energy shocked through the wolf's system in a way he had not felt in years—millennia! A clear and vibrant magic that told the wolf what he needed to know and what her silver eyes had him suspicious of in the first place.

  Slowly, he pulled back from the girl—who looked like nothing had changed for her at all, as she just kept staring at him—and looked back at the raven. He did not say anything, but the look in his eyes was enough to confirm things with the bird. The wolf watched as the raven seemed to deflate, eyes darting between the woman and the wolf.

  As for the wolf, he turned back to the young lady. As he watched, he saw that her shivering had grown more pronounced. Not only that, but her eyes began to flutter shut, and she swayed where she sat.

  Behind him, the raven made a sound of alarm. He said.

  Damn it all. They had to get the girl someplace safe. No way the raven could do it. He may have been bigger than an actual raven, and in their glory, they would have had the strength. Not now, however. So it would be left up to him.

  "Easy does it..." he said, approaching the woman. He had no clue now whether or not she could actually hear him, but he didn't want her getting frightened and acting out. But she did nothing. Just allow him to approach. When he pressed himself against her, feeling the zing of her power once again, she seemed to get the hint and wrapped those dangerously thin arms around his neck.

  Her grip was weak, and he only just managed to get her on his back before she passed out completely.

  Now what?