(A/N: like I said, this wasn't originally supposed to be part of the story and was written more than a year later. I'm afraid it wasn't extremely thought out either; I just... suddenly felt I had a few more things left to say. Well, enjoy, and thanks for reading again!)

...Epilogue

Gary insisted she keep the hunter's silver sword. "You might need it," he said, and shrugged when she gave him a blank stare: "You never know."

"I'm not going to kill him," she retorted. He kept handing it to her, hilt first.

"Maybe you won't get to have a choice, carrot top."

I'll let him kill me then, she thought. But she took the sword anyway.

Then she felt guilty about having it, and the following night while Ash slept she started digging a hole in the ground to bury it. She broke three fingernails, and he woke up before she was done. "Don't," he said, grasping her wrist; and when she yanked it away and tried to finish what she'd started doing he got angry and said she had no idea what it was like, knowing that he could hurt her. She asked if he thought it'd be easier for her to kill him and they ended up fighting about it the whole day. At some point she shouted in his face that she should have gone home and left him alone. "Go home then," he shouted back, and she said "Maybe I will", and they kept walking in silence, furious, looking away from each other.

Then that night she lay curled up on the cold ground, blowing on her fingers to try to keep them from freezing, and he sat down by her side. "I'm sorry," he grumbled. She waited the whole night before she turned and said: "I'm sorry too".

"You can still go home, you know," he told her, looking away. His wounded shoulder had bled through her makeshift bandage. She bit the inside of her cheek; then shook her head.

"I don't want to," she replied. "I mean, I do. But I'm also not leaving you alone so shut up."

He didn't shut up. She didn't listen, even if her eyes stung with tears every time he mentioned her father or her sisters.

She did keep the sword.

Now she closes her fingers around the hilt, biting her lip. Then lets it go.

"Leave when I start turning," Ash whispers. His voice shakes terribly. "In case…" he yanks at the chains she wrapped around a spur of rock. He made her pull them so tight that they've already left bruises on his arms. "You know, in case…"

"They won't break, alright?" she assures him. Would these hold a big animal?, she asked the merchant she bought them from, with two coins from the handful Gary slipped in her pocket before they left ("For the journey," he said, and refused to take them back). How big?, the old man wanted to know. She thought of black bristly fur and sharp claws. A bear, she blurted out. He wanted to know what such a lovely young lady could want with a bear. Just answer my question, she growled; would these hold a big animal?

"But in case," he insists. She sighs a little, even if she's not all that sure either.

"They won't break. They're sturdy enough."

Ash says nothing. He purses his lips and looks away, and she sees tears glistening a little in his eyes. "Do you think," he says after a handful of moments, and it takes him a bit to finally finish his question. "Do you think it'll hurt?"

"I don't know," she admits. He answers with a "mh" and draws his knees closer to his chest.

It'll be night soon.

"Maybe you should check the chains again," he says after a while. She shakes her head.

"I've already checked them twice."

"Well, just do it one more time, it won't hurt, will it?" he snaps; then sinks his teeth into his lip. "I just— want to be sure."

She stands with a sigh, and walks to him to give the chains another tentative jerk. Still wrapped tight. "You're good."

Ash doesn't reply. He looks towards the entrance of the cave, even if he's too far to see the sky from there. He's paler than a sheet. Maybe it won't happen, she tries to tell herself. Maybe the hunter was wrong or lying and it's not true that who gets bitten will become a wolf. But she listens to his breath getting sharper as it gets darker, and she goes back to where she was standing, out of reach.

Suddenly he stiffens and gasps. His back arches and he screams, and she grasps the hilt of the sword and takes a step back. She presses her lips together, her heart starting to race. He screams again.

She can't watch. She turns away while his body changes and cracks and his screams start to sound less like his voice (broken, trembling, but still his voice) and more like growls. When she looks up again there's a wolf where only a few moments before Ash was sitting. Blood-shot eyes stare at her for a second, its nostrils quivering and a low growl rising from its throat, then the beast stands on its rear legs and starts jerking at the chains, trying to break them. Misty presses her back against the cave wall. She clutches the swords tighter and draws it from her belt. The chains won't break, she tells herself, but she holds it in front of herself still. The silver blade catches the moonlight, shining white.

The chains won't break.

For the rest of the night the wolf howls and growls and tries to break free. Misty holds the sword until her hands and her arms tremble with the effort as the chains rattle, her heart hammering in her temples, and wonders if she'd be able to do it. If she'd strike to defend herself, should

(Ash)

the wolf really break free.

It's just one night, she thinks. It'll be over soon.

It's just one night.

—-

At dawn she kneels next to his curled up shape and frees him from the chains. They left purple-black marks on his arms.

She takes off her cape and lays it gently over him. He groans a little, then opens his eyes and blinks a few times, looking at her in confusion. Misty forces her lips into a smile. "Hi," she says, stroking his shoulder.

"Misty," he whispers. His voice is hoarse as if he'd screamed for hours, which is true, she guesses, in a way. He sits up, holding her cape tight around himself, and looks at nothing for a few moments.

"It hurts," he says in the end. His words tremble a little. "I thought I would die."

"Well, looks like you didn't," she replies. "Does it still hurt now?"

He shakes his head. "Just my arms, a bit." He raises a hand to rub one of his bruises, then bites his lip. "Do you think… it's always going to be like this…?"

"I don't know," she whispers. Ash looks at her.

"You're fine, right? I didn't hurt you…?"

"You didn't," she assures him. Then adds: "Come here."

Ash lets her hug him. She holds him tight, burying her face in his hair, until she's sure he's really there again.

—-

He has nightmares often. He screams and jerks away from her touch at night, and trying to smother his terrors with hugs or kisses does nothing.

He's gotten thinner since they left. She built a fishing rod, and she knows something about plants from her mother, about which ones are good to eat and how to tell them apart from the bad ones, but when he wakes up from one of his nightmares he refuses to eat. He says he isn't hungry, and his bones seem to jut out a bit more every day.

"What do you dream about?" she asks him one evening.

Ash gives her a surprised look for a moment, then turns away. "I don't dream."

"I know you do. I can hear you."

"Can't remember," he says, but he does it too quickly and his teeth sink into his lip, and she's sure he's lying. She looks at the stars in the sky.

"I have nightmares too," she tells him. "Sometimes about your father. And sometimes about my mother. You know— the day I found her. Or sometimes the dream is the same, only instead of her it's one of my sisters. Or you. And in the dream I know it's all my fault, because I left, or because I didn't do all I could to warn you all."

He says nothing. Misty turns to look at him.

"Your turn now. What do you dream about?"

He bites his lip harder. "That I hurt you," he says finally, his eyes glued to the ground. "That I turn, and then when I'm myself again I look at you and you're— "

He can't say it, but she pictures it quite clearly anyway. A shudder runs down her spine. "It's not gonna happen," she assures him though. He doesn't reply.

His stomach grumbles. She gives him a look.

"Eat something."

"I'm not hungry," he insists.

"Liar."

He pulls his knees closer to his chest, curling up around them. "I'm just not hungry, alright? I just… keep thinking about that and I feel sick."

She finds nothing to retort. Ash looks at her.

"You should go home," he says; she frowns.

"And leave you here to do what, starve yourself to death?"

"You just said it. You feel bad because you left," he insists. "So go home. At least I'll know I won't hurt you."

"You're not going to hurt me. That's what the chains are for," she says. "And I'm not leaving. Yeah, I feel terrible about that. Of course I do. But you're even more stupid than I thought if you think I'd feel better if I left you here alone."

He bites his lip again, hard. "But at least you'd be safe."

"But you wouldn't," she retorts. He hugs his knees and says nothing.

—-

The chains hold him for three moons. On the fourth they snap loose.

Misty presses her back to the rock, her heart jumping in her throat, her hands shaking around the hilt of the sword. This is it. Either she kills him or dies. There's no time to run, no time to do anything else.

It's just kill him or die.

The wolf that was Ash leaps towards her, growling, its fangs bared. She almost does it, almost strikes, but at the very last moment her will fails her. She can't. The hilt slips from her fingers, the silver blade clattering against the rock. She can't— couldn't. She shuts her eyes and holds her breath, waiting for sharp teeth and claws to sink into her flesh and tear her to pieces.

But nothing comes, and after a handful of moments she dares to crack them open again. The wolf sniffs at the hem of her dress, studying her. When it looks up she sees that its eyes are the same brown as before.

She takes in a trembling breath, slowly. The wolf watches her for a few moments still, then recoils a little and she draws back with a half-cry, sure it's about to jump at her throat. But the wolf doesn't. It crouches down instead, and for the rest of the night its brown eyes—Ash's eyes—keep watch on her. She doesn't dare to move a muscle the whole time, barely breathing. It's the longer night of her life. Her legs feel numb come the morning, and her back hurts, but she's alive still. The wolf is still watching her, its breath raspy and low.

When its body starts changing and twisting on itself to turns into Ash's again she stoops down, her knees wobbly, and covers him with the cape she kept folded by her side because it's spring now and it's too hot to wear it. She brushes his hair away from his forehead with trembling fingers, and he frowns a little and then opens his eyes again.

He gives her a confused stare, then realizes he's not where he's supposed to be and sits up with a gasp. "Did I—?" he stammers, and looks at her and then at the broken chains. "What…?"

"It's alright," she assures him. He shakes his head furiously.

"What am I doing here?"

She bites her lip. "The chains broke."

He holds his breath, his eyes wide with terror, and draws away from her. She lays her hands on his shoulders: "It's alright. Nothing bad happened."

"I— I didn't hurt you?"

She shakes her head. "I'm alive, aren't I? I thought you'd attack me, but you didn't. I think you recognized me."

Ash blinks. "I did?" he says, then shakes his head again. "You should have killed me. As soon as I broke free, you— you should have…"

"Well, that would have been kind of pointless, in hindsight," she retorts with a slight shrug. She tries to laugh, only managing a trembling croaking sound, then pulls him closer and hugs him tight. "It's alright. You didn't hurt me. See, I told you it wasn't going to happen."

He breathes out in a relieved gasp, almost a sob. She holds him for a moment still, then lets go. Her fingertips trace the scars on his shoulder, left by the teeth of the wolf that was his father.

"The next time I turn I want you to go away," he says, urgent. "If I break free again— "

"You could have killed me this time. Very easily. And yet you didn't," she interrupts him. "I think it's still you somewhere. I don't think you'd do it the next time either."

"You still need to tie me up," he insists. "And leave. And— "

She sighs. "Fine, we'll see if we can fix those chains somehow, we can do that. But I'm not leaving."

She gives him a quick kiss, then stands. Her knees are still trembling a little, but it's alright. Another moon has passed.

"Come on, now put some clothes on. We have another whole month to think about what we'll do next time, yeah? It's gonna be alright."