Arabella jolted back to her senses. Frantically, she began searching her person. "The gun... the gun... yes, I have a gun... I can do this..."

Her cold fingers yanked the pistol from her pocket. Without a half-second of hesitation, following a muscle memory that even amnesia couldn't erase, she deftly racked the slide to chamber a round. Her index finger rested on the trigger while her middle and pinky fingers squeezed the grip safety with textbook-perfect form.

She didn't remember a single word Frederick had said when he introduced the weapon to her, but she knew exactly how to operate it. She didn't know this was a Heckler & Koch P7 semi-automatic, but her hands did. Procedural memory, stored in the spinal cord and cerebellum, remained untouched by the loss of her conscious memories.

Arabella raised the gun and, without hesitation, fired a shot into the sky. The thunderous crack shattered the silence of the woods, sending a flock of birds into flight.

The shot served as a warning. The three fighting wolves slowed their movements, looking warily toward Arabella.

Next second, she leveled the muzzle at the wolf biting Black's hind leg and let out a low growl: "Go! Get out of here!"

The three wolves didn't move. They recognized the weapon. They didn't come closer, but they didn't retreat either. They were intelligent creatures, weighing whether this was a fight they could still win. 

One of the wolves was apparently more reckless than the others. Ignoring the Alpha's hesitation, it continued its vicious attack on Black. Driving them away was no longer an option.

She had shown mercy; in her bones was the ancient wisdom of her heritage—courtesy before force.

Arabella took a deep breath, fired her second round.

Bang.

The gunshot startled the night once more. The reckless wolf was hit squarely in the head and collapsed instantly, its blood beginning to pool into a small crimson lake.

The recoil of the pistol seemed negligible to Arabella. She wasn't even surprised that she had hit her target; in her subconscious, she simply knew she could.

She quickly shifted her aim to another wolf—the Alpha. She didn't flinch as she walked forward until the muzzle was barely half a meter from the beast's face. "Leave, or I'll kill you too."

The Alpha stood its ground, letting out a threatening snarl. Perhaps it hadn't expected this girl, who looked so different from the large hunters, to walk right up to it without fear.

Arabella fired a third time. With terrifying precision, the bullet tore through its head. The Alpha's eyes remained open as it slumped into the snow.

With two wolves down, the remaining one was left without support. It stopped its struggle with Peach and stared blankly at the corpses of its packmates, letting out a long, mournful howl. Arabella's gun was already pointed at it. The wolf didn't move forward or back, simply glaring at her with savage eyes.

Girl and wolf locked eyes in the dark. Arabella didn't fire a fourth shot because Black and Peach were no longer being attacked. "Go! Run! Get out of here! Take your cub and go!" she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks. She had killed its family and didn't want to take another life, but if it took a single step toward her, she wouldn't hesitate.

Peach let out several fierce barks to drive it away. The wolf took one last look at its fallen companions, suppressed its grief, and bolted into the bushes. It snatched up the small cub and vanished into the darkness.

Arabella kept the gun raised, staring tensely into the shadows for a full minute before finally going limp. Without stopping to catch her breath, she scrambled over to Black.

The wolf was dead, but its teeth were still clamped onto him. Black's front limb was broken, and his hind leg was a mangled mess of flesh and fur; he could no longer walk.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Black... It's my fault. I shouldn't have brought you out here..." Arabella sobbed uncontrollably. She knelt in the dirt, her hands trembling as she pried the wolf's teeth out one by one, her clothes and skin becoming covered in blood.

Black licked her face and lifted his one good paw, resting it on her hand with a soft whimper. His wet eyes seemed to say: It's okay. Protecting you is my mission.

"I'm taking you back, Black. I'm taking you to the hospital..." Arabella wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve. The cold wind had turned her cheeks a pale rose.

Peach was also injured, with a long gash across her back, but she could still walk and had energy left. Arabella came up with a makeshift solution: she took off her scarf, bundled Minnie inside, tied a knot, and gave it to Peach. Peach barked once and intelligently gripped the knot in her teeth.

As for Black, Arabella decided to carry him back. However, he was a full-grown Doberman weighing over eighty-five pounds. She had completely underestimated the weight and overestimated her own strength; she failed to lift him twice. Blood continued to seep from the deep gashes on his legs.

Arabella felt as if her own heart was being torn open. She hated that she wasn't strong enough. If she had Frederick's powerful arms, she could lift Black with ease. Instead, she could only cry and apologize. "Trust me, Black, I'm strong. Frederick said I was strong."

She didn't want to imagine how Frederick would punish her for this. She had disobeyed him, insisted on coming out alone, and as a result, they had encountered wolves and both dogs were hurt. If she hadn't been so stupid, if she had asked for help, none of this would have happened. 

Arabella didn't have time for self-pity. She took a deep breath of the freezing air and held it. Gritting her teeth and relying on pure, stubborn willpower, she heaved the eighty-pound dog onto her shoulders and slowly stood up. Her slender arms were strained to the absolute limit.

Black let out a soft whine, seemingly surprised that his little mistress could actually carry him.

The clouds were scattered by the wind, revealing more of the moon. Pale blue moonlight filtered through the canopy, making the forest night seem less terrifying. The warmth of the animal's fur began to thaw Arabella's frozen hands, and though the wind nipped at her neck, she didn't feel cold. Finding joy in the midst of hardship, she let out a cheerful cry:

"Alright, let's go home!"