A statuesque Wolverine, standing there, gazed at Estelle with a pair of bewildered eyes.

Rising to her feet, Estelle gripped a knife in her hand, locking gaze with the Wolverine in the darkness. Her expression was serene, a silent pact that as long as the Wolverine didn’t provoke her, she wouldn’t harm it either.

Sensing no ill intent from Estelle, the Wolverine let out a grunt and settled itself onto the ground.

Estelle followed suit and sat down.

In the darkness, human and beast sat facing each other.

The Wolverine kept its eyes on Estelle, looking somewhat displeased, yet it didn’t attack.

Estelle felt something was amiss, her mind raced, and then it clicked. She pointed at the straw on the ground and asked, “Is this yours?”

After a pause, she added, “Do you understand me? If not, we can converse in another language.”

It seemed the Wolverine got the gist as it snorted through its nose in a gesture that felt like it was saying, “You finally get it.”

but chuckle. Aren’t bears supposed to live in tree hollows? What’s with the straw bedding? And here

the Wolverine when she noticed it eyeing a sandwich

reached into her bag and pulled out a slice

ground, grinned

a deal,” Estelle proposed merrily. “I’ll give you this one, and you let me

nodded in

in relief, amused

placed the tiramisu before the

then joyfully crammed

delight, Estelle unwrapped a cream cake

nestled into the straw and drifted back to

find the girl already asleep on the straw. It ambled to another

collected her water bottle and the empty cake wrappers, tucking them into her bag. Then, she left another slice of cake by the

by the field. She tossed her bag in and continued on the road, hoping to reach Citadel

she had driven thirty miles without sighting a gas station, she

her car sputtered, running

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