The room was not large.

High windows stretched across one wall and solid-looking oak doors leading both to the wards and the waiting room. The centre of the room was filled by a single hospital bed used for most of the doctor's examinations. Wolves, blessed with advanced immune systems, very rarely got sick. Most minor injuries healed within hours of receiving them so, most visits to the consultation room were of a more serious nature.

Tucked into the corner was a small plastic armchair for worried relatives to perch, flanked by clever storage units that sat inside the walls themselves, maximising the available space. They were filled with all the medical supplies you'd need in an emergency. The chair had been occupied most of the morning by Jenni, Doc's daughter; her sharp, brown eyes never missing a thing that happened in her hospital. She was small for a wolf, with short hair, dyed a brilliant red.

She wasn't born to the Blackridge pack. Born a hundred miles south here, she’d grown up amongst some of the lowest-ranking wolves. When the rogue wars began her parents had been amongst the first to fall, leaving her to fend for herself. It had been assumed that she would take the rank of Omega when she shifted at sixteen, being so weak and placid in nature.

That may have been the end of her story if Doc hadn't visited one winter and been forced to stay longer than intended by a raging blizzard. He'd discovered that her sharp mind had an extraordinary aptitude for medicine and decided to adopt her and bring her back with him to study and train. She owed him everything.

As the afternoon grew old, she felt weariness drag at her eyes. She closed them a moment waiting for the ache to drain away, then lifted her book and forced herself to read some more. Before she had finished the page, she found herself looking at the sleeping girl again.

She hadn't moved, lying as still now as she had when the Alpha had carried her in several hours ago. Her strange scent filled the room but oddly, she found that the longer she was around it, the less it disturbed her wolf - becoming an unusual characteristic rather than a veiled threat.

Maybe she doesn't know she smells, her wolf suggested helpfully.

What?

You know, like that halito-whatsit...

Halitosis? A pause. You think her scent has bad breath?

Why not? It's as good an explanation as any right now.

Doc had chosen to keep the girl in the examination room until she woke up so he could be in close proximity if needed. He’d firmly declined the presence of a guard in the room despite the protests of every wolf in the waiting room. How he found the courage to defy such high-powered wolves, was a mystery Jenni had yet to explain. Though the small nurse did not share their concerns either, she kept an eye on her patient all the same, just in case.

She took another look at the girl lying in perfect stillness on the bed. The curls of her hair lay spread out across the pillow – a natural red unlike her own vibrant shade, and long, as though it rarely ever saw a pair of scissors. Jenni's own pixie cut suited her small frame.

I could never pull off long hair, she admitted to herself ruefully.

The girl had slept most of the day. Head injuries like hers often affected humans this way, occasionally wolves too, if severe enough. But her father suspected that something more was going on in her system. He'd taken blood samples before he'd left but had been strangely evasive about the results.

Remembering how cold the girl had been when she'd first arrived, Jenni shook her head. She was quietly surprised that there had been no fever to contend with. Sighing she turned her attention back to her book. After managing to read another page, she looked up again. Emerald eyes stared back at her.

The eyes flitted around the room taking in both the doors, then dropped down to the IV still attached to her hand. In a flurry of movement, the girl struggled against the clinging sheets of the bed, attempting to pull the needle out of her arm.

Jenni carefully placed her book down and approached the bed as fast as she dared, taking hold of the girl's wrist to prevent her from ripping the needle out of her arm.

"It's alright, calm down - you're safe now." She spoke softly, trying not to spook her further.

The girl's frantic eyes met hers and pulled out of reach, almost panting in her panic, but she did stop trying to remove the needle from her arm.

Jenni smiled. "Hi," she began. “It's alright.”

***

Panic. Her first awareness. Panic, pain, and an all-consuming desire to see something familiar. She stared at the hand on her wrist like prey stares at a predator about to strike.

Who the hell are you?

"It's alright," the stranger repeated, backing off a little. “I'm a nurse and I'm trying to help you. Just calm down."

The girl glared. You calm down.

"I'll take it out for you, see?" The ‘nurse’ gestured towards the needle in her arm.

Swallowing the knot in her throat, the girl thought it through a moment. Her eyes tracked the room, taking in the hospital equipment, the nurse’s uniform, and the two sturdy-looking doors, before thrusting her arm out in front of her. She watched her every movement like a hawk as the unwanted IV was carefully detached, wincing as she felt the needle come out.

The nurse worked quickly, but her eyes were far away as though she was having a silent conversation with herself. The girl watched suspiciously as her pupils cleared, and she looked up with a warm smile. "There, all done."

As soon as she let go the girl resumed her frantic scrambling, desperate to be free of the restricting sheets that covered her, one eye on those doors. But once free, she looked down in dismay at the long hospital gown that covered her, and the multitude of cotton bandages all over her arms and legs.

What the hell happened?

Her panicked movements were a mistake. Pain squeezed her head tightly and she cried out, gingerly reaching up to the source of the pain. A pressure bandage hugged her forehead. She touched it and her vision blurred.

Why can't I –

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek from under her closed lids as she searched through the fog in her brain for answers.

"Hello." The voice was unfamiliar. "About time you returned to us."

She opened her eyes again and a new face swam before her suddenly hazy vision. He was old in an ageless kind of way, with wrinkles set around kind blue eyes and grey hair that refused to be tamed, standing up in all directions.

"You've been out for several hours. I was beginning to wonder if you'd need an adrenaline shot to wake you up," he remarked, checking the ECG machine as he spoke.

Even in her fuddled state she could sense he was taking care to keep his movements slow. It didn't help. She pressed her back against the headboard, her eyes wide, traces of tears glistening on her cheeks.

When he attempted to check her temperature, she whimpered in distress, pulling herself as far away from him as she could, her arms wrapped around her knees. She looked frantically over his shoulder, locking on to a pair of soft, chestnut orbs.

The nurse smiled in encouragement. “Maybe she needs a minute, father?” When she spoke, her voice flowed across the room like a soothing balm.

Her father allowed himself a small sigh as he backed off a little. “A certain level of fear is normal given the circumstances,” he muttered, his voice so low the girl could barely hear him. “But I need to examine her properly, and before...” The rest of his words vanished in a low hum.

“I know father,” the nurse murmured, her voice just as low. “But she's clearly terrified. Maybe...”

More humming, and they both turned to observe their patient, matching expressions of concern on their faces.

The girl’s eyes flitted between them, rife with suspicion. What do you want?

"I'm a doctor." He spoke in a low, soft voice, keeping his distance. "I only want to help you, but I need you to calm down first." He paused, watching the ECG for signs of further distress. "Can you tell me your name?"

She stared at him, twisting her hands together.

"You must have a name? What should we call you?” He smiled a gentle smile, and the room grew warm and fuzzy. “Constantly saying 'The girl' seems rather rude at this point."

She frowned and shook her head in confusion, then immediately wished she hadn't as the sharp pain returned full force and a wave of dizziness washed over her. The room began to tilt sideways alarmingly, and she paled and grabbed onto the sides of the bed, frantic to stay upright.

"You have a head injury," the doctor confirmed, seemingly unconcerned that his patient was now clinging to the bed the way a climber clings to the side of a cliff. He picked up the chart hanging off the railings and glanced over it. "It was quite nasty, I had to use a couple of stitches. I wouldn't recommend prodding at it for a while."

The nausea hit as the room began its second rotation and she realised that she was never going to make it off the bed before the inevitable happened.

"You may feel slightly disorientated for a while -"

Slightly? She looked around frantically for some sort of container before it was too late. Another mistake. The room shifted on its axis and began spinning the opposite way, just for fun.

A bowl was thrust in front of her, and small hands held her hair away from her face as she heaved. For a moment, at least, she was too miserable to feel anything but grateful to the nurse as the room continued to play merry hell with her sense of up and down.

"- but that's perfectly normal, nothing to worry about." The doctor looked up at the two of them, hunched over the bowl, and nodded to himself.

"Dizziness, nausea... you may have a concussion. Vitals are holding steady but I think you're going to be enjoying the comforts of our hospital for a while longer. Do you have a headache?" he asked curiously.

Neither girl answered him. One, still clinging to the sides of the bed so tightly that her knuckles were as white as her face, and the other whispering soft words of encouragement in her ear:

"Just breathe slowly, focus on one spot... everything will right itself in a minute."

She was right. Eventually everything steadied and her nausea died down enough for the nurse to remove the rancid bowl which, quite disgustingly, the doctor insisted on peering into with interest before it was taken away.

She realised that her vision had cleared up along with the vertigo and closing her eyes with relief, she began to try and pull her fractured thoughts together.

What happened? she asked herself again.

"Of course," the doctor continued as though nothing remotely interesting had just happened, "Under normal circumstances I'd be better off leaving you to sleep - the body tends to recover in its own time - but, given the unusual nature of your arrival, our Alpha is a little impatient for some answers."

Our what?

His daughter shook her head warningly at him and he seemed to realise that he'd said something he shouldn't have. Coughing uncomfortably, he began checking the ECG again, his tiny round spectacles perching on the very end of his nose as though they were defying gravity.

"Damn man won't leave the waiting room," he muttered as though in self-defence.

Who won't leave the waiting room?

Frustration filled her. She opened her eyes warily and watched the doctor while he worked. There was a question that kept the knot of fear and panic sitting firmly in the centre of her chest and the feeling that something was very wrong just wouldn't go away until she had an answer.

"W- wh-" she tried to ask, her voice coming out in a hoarse croak.

The nurse reappeared with a cup of water and a straw and helped her take a few sips.

"Who are we?" The doctor prompted, " Of course, should have introduced myself straight away. My name is Doc, you've already met my daughter, Jenni -"

Her eyes shot to the small nurse. Jenni. Finally, a name.

"And you're being treated in the best pa –" He paused at the startled squeak from his daughter. “Hospital," he corrected quickly, "in nearly a hundred miles in any direction!" He beamed; pride written all over his face.

Jenni rolled her eyes affectionately. "Modesty will only get you so far," she agreed amiably.

The girl forced a small smile in response, compelled by their friendly natures, but it was quickly replaced by a furrowed brow.

That's not what I wanted to ask.

"Wh- wh-" she tried again, her voice refusing to cooperate.

"What happened?" Doc interrupted. Distracted by the ECG that had begun beeping faster in response to her increasing agitation, he failed to notice the look of frustration on her face. "We were hoping you could shed some light on that one."

Damn it, stop interrupting me!

"You were found in the forest.” He tapped the screen as he answered, apparently wondering if it had technical problems. “Quite badly injured I'm afraid... we're not sure why." He turned to look at her expectantly.

Another wave of nausea threatened. Her stomach heaved again and Jenni leapt forward with a fresh bowl. But, with a great deal of effort, she managed to get it under control, thrusting her hand up to stop Doc from talking anymore.

Trying to control the fear that gripped her chest, she took a deep breath. Concentrating, her mouth moving sluggishly as though she hadn't spoken in months and was out of practice, she had one more go. "Can. You please. Tell me... Who I am?"

They stared at her in shock. Jenni's mouth hung open, half reaching towards her with the bowl. Doc looked like he'd just received the first surprise he'd had in years... and wasn't sure what to make of it.

Don't they know?

She cast frantic eyes between them and tried again: "Who am I?" The only sound in the room was the ECG, beeping rapidly as she looked between them for an answer that didn't appear forthcoming.

"Y- you don't know?" whispered Jenni eventually, distress wiping the smile from her face. She shot a panicked glance towards her father.

Doc sat down on the very edge of the bed, still exuding a sense of calm authority. All traces of his momentary lapse into shock had been replaced with a mask of professional curiosity, and his eyes switched between observing her, and the still-panicking ECG.

They don't know.

"Can you tell me,” he asked gently. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"I- I- don't..." Her mind was completely blank, like a dresser full of empty drawers waiting to be filled.

The panic took over. With every breath, her heart attempted to leap right out of her chest. Her head pounding violently to the beat of her pulse, the dizziness threatening to come back every time she moved.

They don't know? How can they not know?

Doc exchanged a worried glance with his daughter and jumped up, disappearing out of the room for a moment.

They don't know, they don't know, they don't know... If she kept repeating it enough times, maybe it would become a truth so ordinary, she could face it without the deep pit of fear overwhelming her.

Doc returned with a paper bag. “Breathe in, breathe out,” he instructed, holding it up to her mouth.

The ECG continued to go crazy in the background and she glared at it balefully, wishing she could smash it to pieces.

He followed the direction of her glare, the corner of his mouth twitching up momentarily as he guessed her train of thought. He reached up and turned it off, leaving behind an almost blissful silence.

"I've always hated those things as well," he confessed. "That's it, keep breathing in slowly, you'll be alright in a minute. I think you may have some form of amnesia. Caused, I suspect, by your head injury. More often than not, it is temporary...”

Amnesia?

“... but it does complicate things, right now," he added to himself, unaware that she could hear him. He looked at her again, the smile creeping back across his face. "Would you like to hear something I do know about you with absolute certainty?"

She nodded around the paper bag, eager for something to hold on to.

"You're Scottish!" he exclaimed with all the delight of a father handing his child a present.

She frowned, thinking about it. Slowly she lowered the bag.

"How do you know that?" she asked, then she heard it. A distinct and melodic lilt to her voice, an accent that announced clearly where she was born.

"I'm Scottish," she said carefully, tilting her head and listening to the sound of her own voice. "I'm Scottish."

"You also have red hair and green eyes," Jenni added. "Now you know three things about yourself."

The girl picked up one of her locks of hair and studied it. It curled loosely around her hand, a flame of colour. She looked up at Jenni and smiled gratefully. Her heart was still pounding but not nearly as much as it had been.

"Now." Doc held a small doctor's flashlight in one hand, "while we're on the subject of eyes, let me check yours and we'll see if there's any more information hiding in there. Then we'll take another blood sample, get some more information that way."

She looked at him in horror. "No more needles," she said emphatically. "I hate needles."

Doc refused to meet her eyes, but said: "Well, now we know something else about you, don't we?" He began shining the light in her eyes, passing it back and forth between them. "How about we start with your name? Do you remember a name at all?"

"No."

"Your age?"

"No." The light made her eyes water and she blinked rapidly to clear them.

"Hmm... what's six times seven?"

"... 42," she answered after a pause.

"Interesting. What's prettier, a rose or a lily?".

I don't know. “A lily... I suppose."

Doc pursed his lips and flashed his light a little quicker, her pupils dilating in response. "The trees outside, what are they?"

She glanced out of the high windows. "Pines. Why --?"

"And your name? Do you remember your name?"

You already asked me that! "No!" she snapped with growing frustration. Then paused, a frown of concentration furrowing her brow. There was a name deep in her mind, a tug of recognition calling her from the depths of her foggy consciousness.

Doc spotted the change in her demeanour and lowered his light, waiting patiently for her to figure it out.

"I remember the name... Hannah," she said hesitantly. "Is that – could that be my name?"

"It could," he replied cautiously. "Or it could be the name of someone particularly close to you for you to remember it now, whilst everything else is hidden from you."

She looked despondent.