Caught between caution and compassion, Marianne stayed put, her heart hammering against her ribcage. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the wolf, whose broad shoulders rose and fell with each tense breath. The hush of disbelief filled the church, thick as incense. What on earth was it carrying?
Brother Paul, the church’s head steward, rushed in with a flashlight, calling out for everyone to remain calm. “Please, move to the exit!” he instructed, voice echoing off the stone columns. A swirl of robes and panicked footsteps soon clogged the aisle, the crowd hurrying to follow his direction.