Snow continued falling over the Norwegian mountains long after Ingrid returned to the hotel.
The roads outside had already begun to disappear beneath thick layers of white, while dim orange streetlights barely illuminated the quiet roadside town surrounding the lodge. Most travelers had already retreated indoors hours ago, leaving only the occasional passing vehicle cutting through the storm beyond the windows.
Ingrid pushed the hotel doors open while carrying the child carefully beneath her coat.
The cold followed her inside immediately.
The woman at the front desk glanced up briefly from her phone.
Then blinked once at the bundled figure in Ingrid's arms.
"You alright there?" the receptionist asked casually.
"Yeah," Ingrid answered quickly. "Found a kid outside near the forest."
The receptionist frowned slightly.
"In this weather?"
A heavy gust of wind howled against the glass doors as the snowstorm outside thickened, snowflakes slamming sideways against the windows like scattered ash. The warmth inside the hotel felt almost unreal compared to the freezing white chaos just beyond the entrance. Anyone outside for more than a few minutes would've been half-frozen already.
"Apparently."
The woman looked mildly concerned for all of two seconds before shrugging.
"Poor thing."
That was all.
The child remained hidden beneath Ingrid's coat the entire time anyway, his claws tucked inward tightly while his shaking body pressed against her arm. Only patches of dark fur were barely visible beneath the fabric, hidden enough that nobody paid proper attention.
The receptionist handed Ingrid her room key back after updating something on the computer.
"Try not to let him freeze to death."
Ingrid hurried toward the elevator immediately afterward.
The moment the doors closed, the child spoke weakly beneath the coat.
"…Are we safe?"
His voice sounded small.
Young.
Far younger than she originally thought.
"For now, probably," Ingrid answered while adjusting the coat around him slightly.
"You're heavy, though."
"I-I'm sorry…"
The apology came so quickly that Ingrid almost laughed.
The elevator opened onto the upper floor shortly afterward. She carried him the rest of the way to her hotel room, while the child remained completely silent again, likely too exhausted to speak.
By the time Ingrid unlocked the door and stepped inside, snow had already begun melting from her boots.
The room itself was modest.
Warm lighting, a television near the wall, one bed, a couch, scattered recording equipment, and half-packed bags from her ongoing travel vlog series across Norway.
The child immediately curled tighter once Ingrid lowered him carefully onto the couch.
Only now did she finally get a proper look at him.
Messy dark hair, golden eyes, small claws trembling against the fabric wrapped around him.
And fur.
Actual fur around his ears and parts of his arms.
"…Okay," Ingrid muttered slowly. "That's definitely real."
The child looked terrified immediately afterward.
"I-I'm sorry!"
"Why are you apologizing?"
"You saw me…"
His breathing quickened.
"Barebloods aren't allowed to see us…"
The words came out shakily.
"…I'll be killed…"
Then he started crying again.
Loudly.
Ingrid physically recoiled a little from the sudden sobbing.
The word Bareblood registered somewhere in her head, but only vaguely. She had heard the term before online and from a few conspiracy forums talking about hidden societies and old bloodlines, though she had always assumed it belonged somewhere between internet roleplay and people who believed lizard aliens controlled governments. Right now, with a crying child shaking in front of her, Ingrid's brain prioritized the immediate problem far more than whatever weird terminology he was using.
"Whoa, hey—"
The child cried harder while trying to hide his face.
"I didn't mean to! I just wanted to see the city first before going home and then the trap and—and—"
His voice broke apart completely.
Ingrid stared for several long seconds before finally sighing and crouching beside the couch.
"First of all, stop moving."
The child froze instantly.
"You're bleeding everywhere."
Only then did Ingrid finally begin unwrapping the coat fully.
The damage underneath looked worse than she initially realized.
A deep wound remained on the boy's leg where the bear trap had clamped down, the flesh torn and bruised from the metal teeth before it had been left behind in the forest. Ingrid had wrapped it hastily with whatever she could find, but the makeshift bandaging was already soaked through in places, barely holding together as she carried him through the storm and into the warmth of the hotel.
Ingrid grimaced.
"That looks awful."
The child sniffled loudly.
"It hurts…"
"Yeah, I can tell."
She carefully inspected the injury left by the trap, realizing it wasn't something she could simply "fix" cleanly. The damage had already been done, deep, torn flesh where something heavy and reinforced had bitten in before being left behind in the snow.
She grimaced, thinking only in terms of survival and first aid.
"Alright… this is going to need proper cleaning."
The child immediately panicked.
"W-Wait wait wait—"
Ingrid ignored the protest and gently steadied his leg before beginning to clean the wound as carefully as she could with disinfectant.
The pup suddenly flinched harder than expected.
"I-it's not healing…" he said shakily, eyes widening in fear. "It's not regenerating…"
Ingrid paused mid-motion.
"…Regenerating?" she echoed, confused.
Silas nodded quickly, breathing uneven.
"Werebeings… we heal fast. We're supposed to. But it's not working…"
Ingrid just stared at him blankly for a moment, clearly not understanding the implication of what he had just said, only registering that he was scared and bleeding and probably in shock.
"Okay," she said slowly, like she was trying to calm down a kid with a fever. "Let's just focus on cleaning it first, yeah?"
"This is the weirdest night of my life," she muttered while kneeling beside him again.
The child continued sniffling while watching her nervously.
"…What's your name?" Ingrid asked gently while finishing the last of the disinfectant work.
The boy sniffled, still shaking.
"Silas…"
"Ingrid," she replied automatically.
She went back to cleaning the wound.
Silas swallowed hard, voice trembling again.
"It… it still hurts. And I'm not healing."
Ingrid paused briefly, glancing at him.
"You keep saying that like it's supposed to mean something to me."
Silas looked genuinely panicked now.
"It does! We're supposed to regenerate. It's not working…"
She stared at him for a moment, then continued disinfecting like she had just been told something mildly inconvenient.
"Okay. Well, try not to scream this time."
Silas let out a shaky breath.
"I'll try…"
He absolutely did not succeed.
Every few seconds, he yelped while Ingrid cleaned and wrapped the wound properly.
"You mentioned that you ran away from home for the city?" Ingrid asked while tightening the bandages.
Silas nodded weakly.
"I wanted to see the cities…"
"The human cities?"
"The Bareblood cities."
Ingrid paused briefly.
Bareblood.
Right.
That word again.
She slowly pieced things together inside her head afterward.
The way he reacted earlier, the fear, the way he separated himself from "Barebloods" entirely.
"…Wait," Ingrid murmured slowly.
Silas looked up nervously.
"You mean humans?"
Silas blinked once.
"…Huh?""You're calling humans Barebloods."
"That's just… what everyone calls you humans with no magic where I'm from."
Ingrid stared at him.
Silas stared back.
The room fell silent afterward.
After patching up Silas of his injury, Ingrid finally got to take him in. His fur, fluffy ears, perky nose, and the claws and fangs as the kid sits up.
Ingrid leaned backward slowly while rubbing one hand against her forehead as she's being overwhelmed with everything.
"Okay."
A werewolf.
An actual werewolf child.
Sitting on her hotel couch.
Crying.
Why?
Because apparently humans, to be specific, Barebloods like her, weren't supposed to know he existed.
"…This is insane," she whispered.
Silas immediately lowered his head again.
"…Sorry…"
"I'm surprised you heard that. I guess it's because of your animal ears."
"Sorry."
Ingrid pointed at him.
Silas gets smaller like a puppy getting cornered with a point, looking genuinely confused afterward.
Ingrid sighed tiredly before finally standing.
"You're staying here tonight."
Silas blinked rapidly.
"…Really?"
"Unless you want to freeze outside."
He shook his head immediately.
"No."
Ingrid tossed another blanket toward him afterward.
Silas grabbed it carefully.
"…You're not scared of me?"
That question made Ingrid pause briefly.
She looked at the child sitting curled up beneath layers of blankets, injured and exhausted, while trying very hard not to take up too much space.
Then she snorted softly.
"You're like… a puppy."
"A puppy!?"
Ingrid laughs.
Silas looked oddly relieved hearing that.
His ears twitched slightly afterward.
"…Thank you, Ms. Ingrid."
The sincerity behind it caught her off guard slightly.
Ingrid awkwardly scratched the back of her neck.
"Yeah, well. Don't mention it."
Silas yawned immediately afterward.
Then another time.
Then a third.
Ingrid laughed under her breath.
A few seconds later, he had already curled up fully beneath the blankets.
Asleep almost instantly.
Ingrid stared at him for a long moment afterward.
Even sleeping, his ears twitched occasionally beneath messy dark hair while soft breathing filled the quiet hotel room.
Outside, snow continued falling heavily beyond the windows.
Inside, Ingrid slowly sat down near the edge of the couch.
"…What the hell did I just drag into my life?" she murmured quietly.
Silas mumbled something incoherent in his sleep.
Then, he rolled slightly closer toward the warmth beside him like an oversized puppy.
Ingrid laughed again despite herself.
Somewhere far beyond the hotel, hidden deeper within the forests surrounding the mountains, a pair of glowing eyes watched the distant building silently from the dark.
Waiting.