Elsa awoke to the sound of whining and howling, a pitiful noise that pierced the early morning silence. Groggy and disoriented, she blinked against the dim light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she thought she heard her son.
"Rocco?" she mumbled, sitting up in bed.
But something felt off. As she became more alert, she realized the sound wasn't coming from her son's room. It was too high-pitched, too animalistic. Elsa shook her head, feeling foolish for even considering the possibility of her son howling like a wolf.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, shivering slightly in the cool morning air. The whining persisted, accompanied now by a faint scratching at the back door. Elsa frowned and hurried to the window, pushing aside the curtains.
