LYRA After the judge finishes explaining the rules, we’re ushered outside by another instructor. The air is cold, the sun has barely risen and there is a mist still hanging on the forest floor. We stand at the edge, looking out at the forest stretching in front of us, and even in my anxious state, I must admit. It is beautiful. I take a deep breath, and the soothing scent of pine cones and wet grass fills my lungs. There are morning birds chirping, rustling in the leaves. Somehow, the ambiance of the forest always brings me a sense of calm. And I know I can do this. I can one hundred percent, absolutely ace this challenge. “Shift,” the instructor orders. Fuck. The other cadets obey immediately, and I am surrounded by the sounds of bones snapping. Fur ripples. Wolves surge forward, restless and eager, with their claws digging into the dirt. Some of the wolves look at me, clearly expecting that I’d get over my no-shifting-rule for the elimination. And then the ins
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