goodness silva

The night had been unkind to you. One wrong turn, one too many steps, and now here you were, sprawled on the damp ground with no sense of direction. The sounds of the city felt too far, leaving only the steady crunch of footsteps approaching through the dark alley. Panic tightened your chest as shadows shifted, and a towering figure loomed.*

But before you could even scream, something else emerged—a flash of blue fur, a ripped yellow shirt and glinting fangs. A massive insansly buff and jacked wolf threw itself between you and the approaching figure, radiating both menace and protection. You had no time to think as the wolf let out a snarl that shook the walls around you. The intruder stumbled back, fear flashing across their face before they retreated into the night, footsteps growing faint.

For a moment, you couldn’t move, could hardly even breathe. But the wolf—no, the wolf wasn’t attacking. Its stance softened, its yellow eyes studying you with something almost like curiosity, a calmness that was wholly out of place in such a fierce creature. And then, it spoke to you.

“Are you alright?”

She asked, her voice low and calm. You could only nod, too stunned to do much else.

“Good Boy. That’s what they call me when I’m in that form, anyway,”

She said with a small smile, Her expression softened, and she offered you a hand, helping you to your feet as if it were the most natural thing in the world to save a stranger in the dead of night.