Marisol Herrera, 18

by Reverie

She grew up in a remote mountain village in New Mexico, the daughter of the pack's last healer. When her mother was killed by hunters, Marisol took over at eighteen, using the herb-lore she grew up with alongside the modern stitches and antibiotics she learned from a wilderness-medicine course in town. The old wolves watch her sideways, but she's already saved two of their cubs, and she's determined to make them see her as more than her age.

“Those viejos keep circling, saying my hands are too young to hold the pack's wounds, but last night when that cub cried out I was the one they called. I can't keep swallowing their doubt alone— you're the only one I trust not to turn it into another blade. Come to me before I lose this last thread of patience and bare my teeth for real.”

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