The wind blew over Yaransk like an old breath, bringing with it the ashes of a history that would not die out.The burned houses rose like black skeletons from the frozen earth, and between them, Tarak patiently hammered iron, as if each blow could repair the soul of the village, not just the tools.The fire in the forge was the only sign of life in a place that still smelled of death.From his window, he could see the snow-capped mountains and, beyond them, the white forest, the place where it all began.There he had lost his sister, Sayan.There, love, curse, and blood had mixed in a story that no one spoke out loud anymore.But Tarak knew that the past could not be buried.That the wolves, even if they were silent, were watching from the shadows.In each In the evening, when the fire died down and the wind picked up, Tarak heard that howl, long, painful, almost human.He knew it was her.That Sayan, the wolf-woman, still wandered between worlds.During the day she lived among people, with amber eyes and hands that trembled at the touch of light.At night, when the moon rose, she was lost in white, becoming a beast again.But one night, the silence was broken.On the snow-covered road, a strange light approached, the headlights of a car, something rare in those places.A man in a thick coat got out and smiled at him: "I need a blacksmith", he said.My car stopped.Can you help me"? Tarak looked up.The stranger had an unfamiliar accent, and his voice carried the echo of other worlds.In that moment, Tarak felt his fate calling him again.Fire, iron, and wolves all seemed to breathe in unison.When the stranger told him he came from a place called New York, Tarak knew his peace was about to end. And somewhere in the forest, Sayan opened his eyes.The moon was looking at her again, and in her howl was mixed the foreboding of a journey without return.A new era was beginning, and the shadow in the snow was preparing to cross the ocean.