Vereluna is always churning.

Echoes sweep through the town and its forests, heedless of time.

There are few places that offer complete stillness.

Maya knew one of them, and she kept it for herself.

She sat along the pond’s edge—a small, secluded area at the foot of the forest. Far enough from home, from the noise. Far enough from the decision that now lingered in her bones. Her hands still trembled from the memory.

Maya shall assume the mantle of Alpha.

She mouthed the words, tossing a pebble into the pond, watching the ripples fade. Whispers of movement stirred beneath the surface; axolotl-fronds flashed as they darted away from the splash.

A hushed tread in the grass broke the silence. Someone was coming. She made no movement, her body as unmoved and restless as her mood.

“I thought I’d find you here,” MJ said, stepping into view. “Axolotls were always your favorite.”

 Maya groaned. “Well, you’re the only other person who knows about this place.”

MJ huffed, tossing a ripe mango onto Maya’s lap.

“You know I don’t like these,” Maya scoffed.

“I know.” MJ chucked a green mango her way, smirking. “That one’s yours.”

Maya's half-smile curved as she lobbed the ripe mango back at MJ.

MJ took a seat beside Maya, her wide-brimmed hat brushing against Maya’s hair.

“I’m always here for you. You don’t have to carry the weight alone.”

A brief silence. Dense and heavy with unspoken words. MJ shifted closer.

“You know, if you’re Alpha, you’ll have to eat the ripe mangoes.” MJ grinned as she bumped Maya’s shoulder.

Maya gave an exaggerated shudder. 

For a moment, there was peace— almost normalcy.

They sat together in silence, watching as the sun crept below the trees. A stiff breeze swept through the pond. Maya’s smile faded.

MJ’s eyes flicked to the forest path. She slapped her thighs as she stood up. “That’s the start of our shift.”

Maya stood as well, brushing the grass from her legs. “Let’s go.”

They glanced at the pond one final time, leaving its calm behind. The forest was churning again. Maya and MJ were on the hunt.

***

The forest had grown colder. Something was wrong. The darkness pressed close, watching. Maya’s ears still rang with Abuela’s words. The tightness pressed against her ribs, as if the night itself were stealing her breath.

Nahual magic swept over her. The wolf-form slipped on like a familiar coat. Her paws hit the earth, silent but heavy.

The night waited. The stars glared down, cold and unflinching. Their harsh judgment reflected every tremor in her chest, every doubt inside her soul.

Voices raced through her mind.

Is she ready to be the Alpha?

Why now?

Can she live up to Abuela Xochi?

Stop it! She forced herself to numb the voices.

She couldn’t let her fears show.

Not to the clan. Not to MJ. Not during the hunt.

Ever.

A shadow darted between the trees. Green eyes flashed, then vanished. Maya froze. The forest held its breath. Her senses stretched outward, scanning her surroundings. No movement, no scent. For a moment, the turmoil in her mind stood still.

Even the treetops didn’t whisper. Maya could not recall a time when it was this quiet.

I know you are here. Come out of hiding.

There.

A sound. Faint. Fragile. A whimper at the roots.

She stalked forward. Every muscle coiled tight. Wolf eyes pierced through the darkness. There was no hiding now. No prey has ever escaped a nahual.

The sound deepened. A cry, cracked and small. Desperate…familiar.

Her chest tightened.

“Sih…Siss-see…” The voice stuttered in the dark.

It can’t be. But—

I know that cry.

Maya crumbled, a broken whine caught in her throat. Her stomach twisted, limbs trembling as the cries pierced her heart.

Hermana? Is that—

 “Ih…sca…sca…”

The cries echoed throughout the trees, growing louder, more desperate. A harsh, twisted plea for help. Maya’s wolf-ears drooped as she crouched down onto her stomach. The edges of her vision blackened.

“Ih…sca…I’m…scared,” the voice shouted.

“I’m scared…you left me!”

Maya’s head pounded, her voice stolen before the air could leave her lungs. The wail grew louder, more forceful, vengeful.

“You left me! When I needed you most, you left me!”

Tree branches whipped. Glowing green eyes sprang from the roots, drawing closer to Maya. Her body refused to move; the words ricocheted through her skull.

A vicious snap. A shrill screech crackled through the forest. Maya felt a jolt against her ribs. MJ stood over her—fangs bared, gray fur spiked, snarling viciously.

MJ?

Startled. Confused. A sharp snort broke from Maya’s nostrils. The warmth of MJ’s fur and the boldness of her stance pulled her back to the forest.

She shook her head as her vision returned. They faced the tree’s root. At first, nothing, just a hush.

The air shifted. A cold, invisible weight pressed in. Green orbs flickered in the darkness. Then came the scent. A wave of moss, rot, and copper crashed against their snouts.

Limbs crawled into visibility—bent wrong, laced with mold and moss. No taller than a child, but it moved like smoke.

Its face unveiled from the shadow. Round and primitive, like a carved old doll, yet wrong. A sharp-toothed grin flickered in the dark. As it blinked, the forest bent with it. Maya and MJ growled as it belted a twisting laugh.

The old stories spoke of these child-sized spirits. Tricksters that prey on memories and essence. The stories called it:

Chaneque, the soul-thief.

The Chaneque’s ghastly grin flashed in the darkness—its jaw wide and crooked. It stepped forward, the air shuddering around it.

Without warning, Maya noticed flickers weaving through the trees. Another pair of green eyes gleamed on the right. Then a third, higher up, the same ravenous glow.

Maya’s heart skipped. She never encountered three spirits at once, only hearing of three together in stories meant to frighten children. Now, here they were.

The veil must indeed be thinning.

They cackled with each approaching step. MJ’s fur bristled. Maya snapped her jaws. Both wolves’ hackles rose high as the air chilled with the Chaneques’ advance. Their hisses and jeers mingled, closing in.

Maya didn’t wait. Her muscles exploded as she lunged towards them. Cackling replaced with snarls as they jumped away into the trees.

The Chaneques swung from the branches, mocking Maya and MJ, daring them to come and get them.

The chase was on.

MJ snorted, paws digging into the earth; feral anger shining in her eyes. The two wolves became like the wind, sweeping through the forest floor.

Deeper into the forest they went as the Chaneques swung and leaped from the trees overhead.

The Chaneques’ jeers boomed through the treetops. Eerie and foreboding, but they’d grown powerless to nahual ears—like pebbles in a tin can.

Maya wove through the forest floor, closing the distance with each passing moment. She barreled through the brush, MJ to her left, poised for a flanking maneuver. There was no escaping a nahual.

A scent caught Maya’s snout.

Not supernatural.

Human.

The scent grew clearer as the chase plunged deeper into the forest. It was a human. Maya’s wolf-mind spiraled with recognition and dread.

She broke through the underbrush; their chase was getting closer to the human’s scent.

A human.

In their forest.

The spirits weren’t the only threat tonight.