"I hate him..." Grian whispered, covering his eyes with his hands. "I hate him and he hates me. I don't know. I don't know anything." He really didn't. The wolf was a different person than him. They had nothing in common except for this body. Nothing at all. And he was deathly scared of the wolf.<br/><br/>How was he not dead yet? She had a halberd, aiming at him, and yet he was still alive, and except for a stream of blood, trickling down his arm from the arrowhead wound that was re-opened as he transformed into a wolf and back, he wasn't even hurt. It had to be some kind of dream, his brain was messing with him... She hesitated. Didn't strike him down. But why? Why would she do that? Was he really that pitiful and poor-looking that even a hunter would spare his life? Pathetic.<br/><br/>"W-why didn't you..." he started, shyly raising his glance at her, "Didn't you... Kill me?" Anyone else on her place would have. He knew it. Then why didn't she?