Life was a constant change of scenery, moving at a slow enough pace to comprehend it all at once without having to worry too much about sensory overload.

At least the world had enough kindness to let Yuki keep her eyes open and her mind curious and her heart full of enthusiasm; otherwise, she'd miss it in a flurry of inescapable movement.

Moving from the big city to a rural village really shaped the person Yuki was today; if she could withstand that, there was not much Yuki could be afraid of in life.

...Except, she did have one fear: the duality within her, pounding at her chest like an anxious heartbeat, ready to escape. The half of her that was wolf was easy to suppress if Yuki worked; it drained her emotionally and physically, though. She could escape from her identity, but where would she disappear to?

Talking about it would mean acknowledgement and acknowledgement meant that she had to take the steps necessary to overcome her fear.

As her stress levels rose, and her adult responsibility expanded, Yuki felt relieved: identity crises were a human invention. SHe was human enough to worry about her humanity: that was satisfactory.