Page 15 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

It gets... tight.

Not in a bad way. Not like panic. More like... pride?

Shit.

Is this what it feels like to be useful?

The last challenge is the mud pit. Classic.

I rigged it with a few surprise geysers from the camp’s busted irrigation system. It’s basically a trap waiting to happen.

“Okay!” Nolan calls. “Everyone has to make it across in a wheelbarrow pair! You step in the mud, you have to start the whole challenge over!”

Chaos ensues.

Feet slip. Elbows flail. Someone screams dramatically when they land face-first.

Nolan watches it all with this intense, laser focus. He’s tracking every move, calling out instructions like a general in battle.

And then one of the kids—Marcus, the goblin with a big mouth and no filter—gets stuck.

“I can’t do it!” Marcus yells. “This is stupid! Nolan made it too hard!”

And just like that, the energy shifts.

Nolan freezes. Stares at the ground.

I step forward—but before I can say anything, he looks up.

“No it’s not,” he says, voice strong. “You’re just not listening.”

Suddenly, it happens.

It starts as a flicker behind his eyes. Then his skin shimmers like a mirage. His shoulders roll back, spine straightening. The air around him hums.

I smell it before I see it—embers and something sharp, like ozone.

Nolan lets out a breath—and then he shifts.

Right there. On the edge of the pit.

Not full dragon, but enough. Scales shimmer down his arms. His eyes glow gold. A tail flicks out behind him. Tiny wings unfurl just a little.

The kids gasp.

So do I.

Nolan blinks, shocked—but not scared. He looks down at himself, stunned.

Then grins.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “I did it.”

The other kids cheer. Even Marcus.

I walk over, crouch in front of him. “How’s it feel, champ?”

Nolan laughs—sharp and joyful. “Like flying and fire and candy all at once.”

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