(CORRINE)
When my eyes open, I find myself in a familiar room.
This ceiling…I've seen it before. I try to move, but I feel so weak. Where am I?
There's something cuddled by my side, and my eyes move to my left. I see a small wolf cub sleeping.
"Finn?" I struggle to speak, and my voice is scratchy.
My son starts, and then he sits up on his hind legs, staring at me. Before I can try to say anything else, he throws his head back and starts howling at the top of his lungs.
I hear loud footsteps. Panic fills me. But when the door is thrown open, two familiar faces burst in at the same time.
Locke.
Sigrid.
Locke makes a beeline toward me, but Sigrid pulls him back. "No!" Her voice is a shout. "She's too weak. Stay back."
Weak?
I can't talk. My throat feels like paper.
She approaches me and brings a small bottle to my lips, ordering, "Drink."
I take a few sips and then sigh in relief.
"Don't speak," she says sharply. Her eyes are glistening with tears.
