The sound of frantic barking pulled you from sleep, your dog’s usual morning routine replaced by something urgent. Groggy, you slipped out of bed, heart racing as you followed the noise to the garage.
There, in the dim light, your dog stood by the marten trap, barking madly at something inside. You stepped closer, squinting at the small, glowing figure trapped within.
Your breath caught in your throat. The wings, the tiny form—it couldn’t be. But it was.
"Impossible," you murmured.
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