On my bed, her body was motionless. Her skin seemed paler than normal, and she was cold. I remained some distance away from her as I was seated in my desk chair monitoring her respiration. Fortunately, no blood was involved as a result of her head injury, but a bump was developing on the side of her head.

The enhanced temporal inlays gave her eyes the appearance of two spotlight rays, illuminating everything she was glancing at. Her eyes fluttered as her vision was still hazy. She pushed herself up and gently touched the bump on her head, groaning as it throbs.

"W-where am I?" she whispered, gazing around the room. "Wolf? What happened?" she asked as she spotted me in the corner.

I carefully got to my feet and approached her; a worried expression on my face. "You hit your head quite badly. I found you in front of the mailing lockers," I talked about as I sat down next to her on my bed.

She remained silent while leaning her head up against the wall. On her lower lash line, I could make out the beginnings of a watery substance. She struggled to contain her tears, but eventually, one tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped the tear away swiftly and sighed, "Sorry." I wasn't exactly sure why she was upset. She conveyed a sense of both terror and sadness at the same time. "You were reading the letter I placed in your pocket. I avoided reading it," I reassured her as I adjusted the material of my comforter.

She scavenged through her jacket's pocket and pulled out the folded letter. As she stared at it, she abruptly tore the letter to pieces. Without a ruler might I just add.

"Why did you rip it up?" I asked confused as I watched the ripped-up letter scattered across my bed.

"It's not important," she scoffed at me as she stood up from my bed.

"It seems important," I stated. "You fainted because of it."

She wandered aimlessly throughout my room. Her breath shortening, a glossy sheen forming on her forehead. Her eyes were streaming tears down her cheeks as she fell to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest. A panic attack hurts and can be very frightening. It was not a pretty sight when I had to fight off an attack on my own, and I had no desire to watch someone else go through it. Everything has its proper time and place, and right now was the time for me to set my insecurities aside.

I knelt next to her and slung my arms under hers and picked her up. I pulled her into a tighter hug I've ever given my mother. She needed that. I was the only person in this room who could provide her with the type of protection she needed. She buried her head in my chest and wrapped her arms tightly around my waist as I whispered in her ear, "You're safe."

Without losing her grip around my waist she looked up at me with fearful eyes. "I'm being stalked and I don't know what to do," she cried as she pinched the back of my shirt in her hand.

Our eyes connected and our spirits read each other. Although she was in distress her inner raven wasn't willing to give up in this fight with herself. The raven is here to conquer her fears and my inner wolf is willing to lead this fight.

I walked her over to my bed once again and sat her down. Being there for her reduced the frequency of those anxious communications. It offered the higher brain an opportunity to once again become concentrated and operational. It placed her back in control of her own mind.

"Do you want to talk about the stalker?" I hesitantly asked, unsure if it was the proper question to ask.

"The letter..." she sighed as rested her head on my shoulder. "He's been sending me these letters since I finished high school. At first, I thought it was just a funny prank, but it progressively got worse. He knew my full name and he followed me from London to Bristol," she said with a panic growing in her voice again.

"It's okay, take a deep breath and when you're ready, you can continue if you want to," I said in a soft tone, keeping the atmosphere as calm as possible for her.

She took a deep breath in and gently opened her mouth to let the tension out of her chest. "Last night I was sitting in the flower garden to clear my head and this old man sat next to me."

I turned to look at her and sharply inhaled, "Did he hurt you?"

She sighed in relief and answered, "Nothing happened." She picked up a piece of the shredded letter and frowned, "I thought he was maybe a professor or a member of staff, turns out it was him."

"I hate to break it to you, but you shouldn't be ripping up these letters," I said as I looked towards the torn-up letter. "You should keep them as evidence and document it. Have you been to the police yet?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah... but I don't think they took it seriously," she sighed, looking helpless.

If only you knew the SIS was involved.

"Stalking is a serious issue, I'm sure they wouldn't have discarded the case," I reassured her. "I think it'll be helpful for them if we brought this letter to their attention, considering he also trespassed the university grounds," I added, attempting to give her a glimmer of optimism.

For a moment the room was silent. All you could hear was our breathing synchronising as I looked over at her fiddling with the piece of the letter in her hand. "Thank you," she whispered as she shyly looked the other way.

"Why thank me?" I asked as I tilted my head to the side.

She fixed her gaze on mine, and those cloudy, rheumatoid eyes became bright. "I truly didn't think you'd treat me this nicely. When I was a mess, you allowed me to rest on your bed, touched me, and otherwise showed me that you cared," she stated with a half-chuckle escaping her mouth.

I looked at her little grin and said, "Don't forget that I'm going to get into a lot of trouble since you're in my room."

She smirked at me and added, "Don't worry, they don't really care around here."

Damn, why is she so adorable?

"Did you tear up every letter?" I asked trying to get my mind back on topic.

"No, just this one... The rest I kept in an old shoebox and when I was still living in London and made my case, I handed in the ones I already had," she explained. "I've received a few more since then."

With a bit of hesitation, I asked, "Would you consider handing the letters over to me? I might know someone that could help you track this person down."

A frown grew on her forehead as she tilted her head slightly. "Who?" she asked with a bit of timidness.

"Have you heard about the SIS?" I asked.

"The Secret Intelligence Service?" she said with a sarcastic look on her face.

I haven't actually told anyone that I was a trainee with the FBI in the United States. I didn't want her to become more anxious since it tended to freak people out. I answered in a more serious voice than she did, "I know someone who works for them."

"I prefer going with you... I'm hesitant to give these letters away," she continued.
Fair enough.

I nodded and motioned for her to leave my room as I rose up, saying, "I'll call him up then."

As she walked past me, she picked up the torn-up letter and stacked it on top of itself before giving me a small smile. She timidly whispered, "Text me," as she left my room.