Nomia

Nomia had always been a wolf who thrived in solitude. As a pup, she never sought the warmth of her littermates, nor did she join in their playful games of chase and wrestling. Instead, she found solace in the quiet of the coniferous forest, where the wind whispered through the trees, and the ground beneath her paws was firm and familiar. She was observant, calculating, always aware of her surroundings. While her siblings tumbled through the underbrush, carefree and loud, she learned to step with precision, her chocolate-brown coat blending seamlessly with the dappled light.

Her mother often watched her with a mix of admiration and concern.

"You're not like the others," she would say, nuzzling the young pup. "You think too much."

Nomia would tilt her head, considering the words. She supposed she did think a lot. She thought about how the pack worked, how wolves communicated without words, how the strongest did not always have to fight to prove themselves. She watched the way alliances formed and crumbled, the subtle shift of a wolf's posture that spoke volumes about their standing.

It was not that she disliked others, but their energy exhausted her. The forced closeness, the empty chatter, the demand to always be engaged—it felt like a trap. She preferred the silence, where she could hear her own thoughts, where she could breathe.

But the pack was changing. More wolves came and went, and the sense of order she had once found comfort in began to unravel. Her quiet nature, once tolerated, became an oddity, something to be questioned.

"She doesn't talk much," some would murmur.

"Does she think she's better than us?" others whispered.

Nomia ignored them. But ignoring did not change the way their eyes lingered, how the space around her seemed to shrink, pushing her toward the edge of the pack's territory.

Eventually, she left.

She did not look back.

---

She had traveled for some time before she stumbled upon the gathering.

The scents hit her first—wolves, so many wolves, far more than she had ever encountered at once. But unlike the suffocating air of her old pack, the energy here was different. There was no forced order, no rigid structure pressing down on her. Instead, there was something... playful. Lighthearted.

She watched from a distance, her ice-blue eyes scanning the scene. Wolves mingled, exchanged gifts, shared laughter. It was an event, a celebration of sorts. And at the center of it all, he stood.

Haru.

She recognized him instantly—not because she had ever met him before, but because wolves spoke of him in hushed, reverent tones. He was a leader, but not in the way she had known alphas to be. There was no demand in his presence, no assertion of dominance. And yet, he held the attention of every wolf there.

She did not intend to approach.

But then his gaze met hers.

And he smiled.

Nomia had never been one to be easily swayed, but something about that look made her hesitate. Before she could think better of it, he was in front of her, his expression unreadable but inviting.

"You've been watching," he said simply.

She lifted her chin, unbothered by being caught. "I prefer to observe."

His smile widened. "Then you already know what this is."

She glanced at the wolves around them. "A gathering."

"A courtship," he corrected, amusement dancing in his golden eyes.

Nomia scoffed. "Not for me."

"Are you sure?" Haru tilted his head. "Because you're still standing here."

That caught her off guard.

She should have left. She should have turned away, let the celebration continue without her. But something about his words, his presence, made it difficult to move.

He took a step closer, his voice quieter now. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. But you don't have to be alone, either."

Her instinct was to argue, to say that she liked being alone. But was that entirely true? Had she not been searching for something, even if she didn't know what?

She exhaled. "I don't like romantic things."

"Then don't see it as romance." His tone was light, but there was something deeper beneath it. "See it as a choice. One only you can make."

A choice.

Not an expectation. Not a demand.

Just a choice.

For a moment, she hesitated. Then, with a slow nod, she took a step toward him.

And for the first time in her life, she chose to stay.