Greykin Chronicles | Greykin Mountain

| 7 | Council

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A bowl of brown stew sat in Jackson's lap. He stared into it, a soft flurry of snow falling around him. Grisly's people were drinking from their bowls, but Jackson needed a spoon. His hunger urged him to try sipping a few times, but every attempt at raising the bowl to his mouth made him feel uncomfortable.

He sighed, still sitting on the same log since arriving. Grisly was sitting by himself, too...and Jackson wondered multiple times whether he should head over. But the crowd still intimidated him, so he stayed where he was. He knew that he wasn't welcome, and getting up and strolling around would probably make things worse.

But then a shrill howl cut through the air.

Jackson flinched, but curiosity accompanied his startle when he watched Grisly immediately stand, and the crowd went silent. A brown wolf sitting on a boulder got up, lifted its head, and howled in response.

Silence....

The shrill howl came again.

Jackson stared, observing the same area of the woods as everyone else was; after a few moments, a small group of wolves raced out into the glade. His sights shifted to Grisly, who hurried towards the leading black and grey wolf. She morphed into a black-haired woman and met Grisly with a tight hug, and there were looks of relief on their faces.

Why did seeing them together like that hurt Jackson's heart? He frowned and looked away, staring down into his stew while the other wolves morphed into people and greeted the crowd. Their mutters grew louder—he heard the word 'rogue' several times, as well as 'cadejo'; he wanted to listen in case they mentioned something that might help him learn more about Greykin Mountain, but he couldn't hear anything other than broken conversation.

Maybe if he focused...then he'd be able to hear better just like he had when he'd arrived at Moore Village this morning. He tried, he concentrated, but nothing happened.

That was when he noticed Grisly heading away from the crowd with the woman he'd hugged, two other women, and four men, one of which was Caius. Jackson watched them closely; they sat on a circle of logs, almost huddling together. He couldn't hear what they were saying, no matter how hard he tried to focus. But when Caius glared over at him, a cold shiver slithered down his spine and nested in his stomach, filling him with angst.

Caius started walking his way.

Jackson looked down at his untouched food—oh god, he was going to yell at him for wasting the food they had generously given him, wasn't he? Forcing aside his discomfort, he hastily lifted the bowl to his mouth and poured as much chunky meat and vegetable stew into his mouth as he could. He swallowed without chewing, and it made him feel ill. He retched, and when he lowered the bowl, Caius was glowering down at him, his left eyebrow raised.

But Caius didn't seem to care about the stew. "Get up."

Placing the bowl on the ground, Jackson stood up, and as Caius led the way over to where Grisly and his group were sitting, he followed behind him. As they got closer, the conversation they were having died down, and they all eyed him closely as Caius made him sit on the snow, despite the fact that there was plenty of space for him to sit on a log.

Jackson glanced at Grisly first, but the man's honey-brown eyes were on the black-haired woman sitting beside him. It was then that he noticed that she and Grisly had similar marks over their collarbones and the space between their left shoulder and neck. It appeared to be a scarred bite.

No one said anything. They all looked him up and down and then glanced at one another.

"And you're sure, chief?" one of the men asked Grisly.