The sun's rays peaked through the crack in the window. Brigitte groaned, rolling over in annoyance. She didn’t want to awaken yet; the dream was too good even if it was just faint remnants by this point.

That's when the girl realized the hour.

"Crap! I'm late, Pappa is going to kill me." Brigitte stumbled out of bed, falling onto the floor with a small thud and let out a small oof.

Quickly tossing aside the furs back up on the mattress, Brigitte quickly got her gear on. She hoped this wouldn’t mean she'd be too late to go to Angela's, because her father would keep her longer for not being on time. That meant a fast breakfast.

Out in the center room was her mother, cleaning up a few things, but left food at Brigitte’s seat at the table.

"Dear, you are awake. I saved some breakfast for you since you slept in." Ingrid said, smiling.  

"I can not stay long, Mamma." Brigitte quickly said, while just grabbing the half loaf of bread from the table and taking a bite. "Papa is going to be angry that I'm late again." Brigitte was about to just leave, but her mother made another comment.

"You do not have to worry, your father had to deal with something with Reinhardt. So he said you could sleep in a little today and work on the armor treatments. Sit down and actually enjoy your meal." Ingrid chuckled, moving her daughter into a chair.

Brigitte sat down, eating more properly. Wondering what business had happened. "Thank you, mamma."

"Also, since you are going to Angela's, could you ask her to make some more of that ointment, if you could." Ingrid poured a large serving of drink into a mug.

"How did you know I was going there?" Brigitte tried to sound nonchalant by drinking.

“I know that you’re concerned about that young man’s condition since you saved him.” Ingrid returned casually.

“Of course, all life matters. Why wouldn't I be concerned?” Brigitte said.

“Though I think there is more to this. Is it the dreams again?”

Brigitte swallowed her bite and thought for a moment. “I think. I keep feeling like there is a connection between them and finding him. Is it that strange?”

“Dreams are a fickle thing. I’d like to believe the gods wished you to find him for good intentions.”

“I guess we’ll see once he awakens.” Brigitte grabbed the last loaf, kissing her mother’s cheek. “Anyway, I should head off to the forge so I can get the work done in time.” 

“Stay safe. Mayhap Ana can shed some light on the subject.” Ingrid said, waving her daughter off.

Brigitte made her way to the forge, greeting fellow villagers as she passed. Sighing to herself, maybe a good day's work would keep her mind busy so she wouldn’t get lost too much in curiosity.

"I don't even know what he sounds like or if he even is a good person." Brigitte mumbled. But something told her he was good.

Recalling the dreams of the white wolves. In the dreams, the wolves kept leading her to some place, always waiting for her to follow them. But it always ended before they got her where they wanted.

Maybe her mother was correct about it, meaning that it was more than what it was on the surface and that Ana might interpret something. She would have to ask.

Though for now, it was thoughts for the future.

---------

Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, Torbjorn tried to nurse a massive headache while sitting in his study. This was the second message sent by a hawk that he received. 

“More bad news?”

Torbjorn looked up at Reinhardt before pointing out a few places on a map. “Morrison has been reporting skirmishes between our villages. Attacks on the road and the trading rivers.”

“You don’t fully trust it to be that simple.” Reinhardt leaned back in his chair, furrowing his brow.

“If it wasn’t for my daughter’s witness, I would.”

“You think they are returning? Even after all these years.”

Torbjorn sighed. “I always suspected there were remnants. Though I am worried about which one of them might try to resurface what should stay dead.”

“It couldn’t be Doomfist or Reaper since we both saw them die on the battlefield.” Reinhardt said. “What was left of them scattered to the winds.”

“Even so, we need to keep up the patrols along the farmlands and the roads.”

“You can count on me to do that. I’ll talk to the men.”

-------

Reaching the hut, Brigitte knocked on the door frame but who came out was not who she first expected.

"Brigitte, do come in." Ana stood there, smiling at her, moving aside to let the girl enter. "I was just about to make tea. Would you care for a cup?" 

"That would be nice. Thank you, Ana." Brigitte replied, returning the smile and sitting at the corner table. Watching the older woman mix up the leaves into the water to brew. 

Ana was darker skinned than most people around these parts. White hair, that was once black, braided to settle around her neck like a scarf. She had a strange tattoo under her right eye, that she had explained was a sacred mark from the gods of her homeland. The tales had always intrigued Brigitte. 

Long before Brigitte was born, Reinhardt had found Ana during one of his old adventures from his youth in the lands far to the south. According to the stories, he rescued her from captors and having nowhere to go, traveled with him here.  

"Angela said to expect you." Ana turned to face Brigitte. "She needed to care for some children in the village. So I was asked to keep watch for you and the young wolfman."

"That is fine, besides Mamma asked me to get some ointment for her aches." Brigitte replied. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you too about something as well. I have had dreams that maybe you could put some meaning to."

"Well, young one, I can not say I know all, but I will try to help. Though first the tea." Ana chuckled, pouring them both a cup. "Even after all this time, it’s still too cold for these old bones. What is the dream?"

First Brigitte took a sip, then started. "It started happening on the last full moon. I was in the forest, wandering until I found a trail of wolf prints in the snow. Following them, I came across two white wolves with dark grey eyes. They kept staring at me for a long time before I took a step forward. Once I got close, they moved too, looking back to see if I was keeping up or circling me. Though before I could get that far, I would wake up. Every dream with them, I made progress. Until the night I saw the bloody hand mark on a tree which forced me to awaken. That was the morning I found his body."

Ana sat there listening, drinking the warm tea. "Hmm. If I go by my experiences and studies, the wolves could be a message from gods. Or possibly those are his animal guardians, finding someone of pure heart. Each dream was a clue and they could not send more than that since their spirit owner was in trouble."

Brigitte bit her lip, thinking more. "Last night I had one more. The wolves huddled around me, as if thanking me."  

Ana gave an intrigued smile. "Then I am leaning more towards what could be his spirit guardians. Those wolves must be very loyal to him. To be that powerful that they can go out on their own to someone else's dreams. No matter the cause, I believe you were meant to find him."

“Why me?”

“Who can say when it comes to fate or destiny. It chooses who it sees fit.”

Brigitte sat there looking into her now empty tea cup. Taking in what she just heard.

"Young one, I understand it is a lot, but take things as they go. Perhaps I am thinking too much of it as they are from old stories and tales." Ana put her hand on Brigitte's shoulder to comfort her. "Do not worry. Anyway, you go spend time with him. I will make the oils for your mother."

The older woman went off on her task, letting Brigitte do what she wished.

Getting up from her chair, Brigitte headed for the side room. Standing in the doorway, she looked over at the white-haired man. Ana had given her more curiosities than answers.

Where did he come from? Did he really have spirits that led her to finding him? Ana was right about one thing, fate would lead down the path as it’s meant to be.

Brigitte kneeled down next to the man. Reaching out to stroke over his soft hair, though in the blink of an eye, something grabbed her arm and held on in a near painful grip. The wanderer's eyes opened. Intense dark grey eyes stared at her...

...Same color as the wolves of her dreams.