“The first time I met a wolf beastkin… it must’ve been during my seventh mission,” Mom began softly.
“The client was a wolf beastkin driven mad with grief after losing their beloved.”
Driven mad by grief…
I couldn’t even imagine loving someone so deeply that their loss would shatter you.
It sounded almost too human — too romantic — for a wolf beastkin, of all things.
“And then? What happened?” I asked, leaning in.
Among the sheep beastkin, only a rare few were born with magical gifts.
When that magic bloomed, they gained special abilities — and Mom was one of those rare few.
“You remember, right?” she said with a smile.
“My singing could lull others to sleep.”
“Of course! I haven’t forgotten,” I answered.
Mom reached out and gently ruffled my hair, her touch soft and warm like sunlight.
Her familiar, comforting scent tickled my nose.
“The wolf beastkin I met back then… you could tell at a glance he was in terrible shape,” she continued.
“His ribs were sticking out — he looked more like a wild beast than a person. Who knows when he last ate.”
“It was that bad?”
“Very. To me, he looked like someone who was just waiting for death.”
“…It’s hard to believe,” I murmured.
“It’s a wolf beastkin we’re talking about. It’s not how I pictured them at all.”
Mom smiled knowingly at my surprise.
“It’s not strange for you to think that way,” she said.
“After all, everyone in Meadowland only ever says terrible things about wolf beastkin.”
She wasn’t wrong.
I’d grown up hearing only stories that painted them as monsters.
“Honestly, I wasn’t much different from you back then,” Mom admitted.
“But seeing him — so broken and lost — it shook me.”
Mom paused, as if lost in the memory, before continuing.
“And I made a mistake,” she said.
“A mistake I’d never made before.”
“A mistake?” I echoed.
“You remember one of our rules, don’t you? A Solver must never reveal their true form to a client.”
“Yes, the Headmaster drilled that into me,” I said.
“Good. But… I let that wolf beastkin see me. And even then, he didn’t attack. He didn’t try to eat me, or hurt me. He just… watched me, silently.”
Mom’s voice grew soft, almost reverent.
“And so,” she said, “I sang. Very, very gently.
And I watched the death-shadowed gray of his eyes slowly close.
Right before he drifted off into sleep, tears fell from his eyes.
And he whispered, ‘Thank you, little lamb.'”
Dad, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up, his voice warm.
“May,” he said, his deep blue eyes full of affection, “hearing that story… what are you feeling?”
He gave me a small, encouraging nod — as if telling me it was okay to say anything that came to mind.
“…I feel sorry for him,” I said honestly.
“And?”
“Before hearing this… I thought wolf beastkin were just cold, bloodthirsty creatures. But now… Maybe I was wrong.”
Mom beamed at me, her dimples appearing as her smile deepened.
“That’s right. Whether carnivore or herbivore — every being born into this world feels emotions.” “
But,” she added, her tone growing firm, “that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous. You must still be careful.”
Hearing their stories helped calm the unease in my heart — if only a little.
We’re all beastkin, after all.
Maybe the only reason I’d been so caught up in fear was because I’d never actually met a wolf beastkin myself.
If he’s suffering from insomnia, he must be in terrible shape.
Maybe… I’ve been thinking too negatively about it.
Talking with Mom and Dad made me feel a lot better.
Our duty as sheep beastkin was to help those in pain find peace.
So I needed to be a little braver — I had to face this mission head-on.
There’s still some time before night falls.
I’ll think of a plan before then.
I resumed eating, but my gaze kept drifting toward the empty seat at the table.
“Cherrybell’s late again today, huh?”
At my words, Mom let out a long sigh.
“It sounds like the research she’s working on is pretty complicated. She said she’d probably be late for a while. I even baked her favorite apple pie today, just in case she came home early…”
Mom pouted a little, saying that apple pie was best when it was still warm.
She looked so disappointed that it made my chest tighten a bit.
And then — an idea flashed through my mind.
Maybe I had just found the answer to my last mission!
“I’ll bring the apple pie to Cherrybell!” I said, jumping up.
“You don’t have to go out of your way…” Mom began.
“It’s okay! I haven’t seen her in so long — I really want to! And I’m sure she’ll be happy to get some of your pie.”
Mom looked at me, hesitating for a moment.
Then she gave me a small, fond smile.
“Alright. I’ll leave it to you, May.”
***
Cherrybell’s lab wasn’t far from our house, so I set off with the basket of apple pie swinging lightly in one hand.
The weather was beautiful today — the sun was warm on my skin, and I had a good feeling that something nice was going to happen.
“First, I’ll cheer Cherrybell up with this apple pie.”
After walking for a while, I finally spotted her lab in the distance.
Well, lab was a generous word.
Cherrybell hated being around other people, so she had set up her own private space away from the academy.
“It looks exactly the same.”
From the outside, it was a gloomy, worn-down house.
Cherrybell refused to hire any servants or helpers — she didn’t want anyone else meddling in her territory.
With no one to clean up after her, the already shabby building looked even more eerie and messy.
I cleared my throat once and knocked on the door.
“Cherrybell, are you in there?”
As expected, no answer.
This wasn’t surprising.
Once Cherrybell got absorbed in her research, nothing else in the world seemed to exist.
“Cherrybell! It’s me! Open the door!”
I knocked harder, but even pounding with my fist wasn’t enough to get her attention.
Eventually, I started kicking the door and even screaming at the top of my lungs.
The racket startled the birds in the trees, sending them fluttering away, and even the squirrels searching for food scurried off in alarm.
Finally, after a loud thump thump thump from inside, I heard an irritated yell.
“Who the heck is making all this noise, you crazy sheep beastkin?!”
The door swung open with a bang.
Cherrybell stood there, her pale face — practically glowing from lack of sunlight — peeking out from behind her round glasses.
She was fuming, but when she saw that it was me, her frown deepened even further.
“What the heck, it’s just you. Can’t you read the sign?”
She jabbed a finger at a wooden plaque hanging nearby, which read in big bold letters:
NO SOLICITORS ALLOWED.
ABSOLUTELY NO BIG SISTERS.
“You’re so mean…!” I cried.
“If you understand, then don’t ever come near my lab again!” she snapped.
As the door started to slam shut, I quickly stuck my foot in the gap.
“If you send me away now, you’re going to regret it! At least see what I brought!”
I waved the basket of apple pie right in front of her nose.
Cherrybell’s emerald eyes locked onto it, completely entranced.
“Mom just baked it — fresh, warm apple pie. Imagine how good it must taste right now,” I coaxed.
There was a flicker of light in her eyes — I didn’t miss it.
Grinning, I opened the basket and pulled out a slice.
Then I took a big, exaggerated bite.
Crunch.
The crisp, buttery crust melted in my mouth along with the sweet apple jam.
The fragrant aroma of butter filled my senses — it was heavenly.
“Mmhm…!”
I savored the bite of apple pie, feeling like I was high-fiving angels in heaven.
Meanwhile, Cherrybell’s face darkened.
After a moment of hesitation, she let out a heavy sigh.
“…Come in. But don’t touch anything in my lab. Got it?”
“Yup! I promise! Absolutely!”
Only after I swore several times did Cherrybell finally open the door fully for me.
The inside was even more of a disaster than I had imagined.
It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years — every surface I glanced at was buried under layers of dust.
“Seriously, if she doesn’t finish her research soon, the dust might kill her first.”
It sounded harsh even to say about my own sister, but it was true.
I lightly blew on a pile of books stacked like a mountain, and a cloud of dust burst into the air.
“Cough, cough…!”
“I told you not to touch anything,” Cherrybell snapped.
“I didn’t touch it! I just… blew on it a little!”
“No blowing either. In my lab, even your breath is forbidden.”
Harsh as her words were, the fact that she had actually let me inside was a huge victory.
Getting kicked out now was the last thing I wanted, so I pouted silently and followed her without complaint.
Cherrybell stopped at a dark, cluttered table tucked away in the corner.
It seemed like this was where she ate most of her meals — crumpled-up trash was scattered all over the floor.
I brushed the thick dust off a chair with a few swipes of my hand and sat down.
“So, why are you here?”
Her voice made it painfully clear she wasn’t thrilled about my visit.
When our eyes met — her sharp, accusing glare — I nervously gulped.