Echoes Of War

CHAPTER X | THE SMELL OF CARRION

Rays of early sun, weak and tentative behind the line of sturdy trees, spill across the forest floor with a fragile warmth. The light is soft, still waking, draping the world in muted gold. Yet despite the promise of dawn, a biting wind snakes through the undergrowth, nipping relentlessly at Lunis’ fur.

Her pelt, heavy with the night’s dew, clings damp against her skin, every movement dragging with the weight of waterlogged tufts. Droplets bead along each pale strand, catching the light like scattered stars before slipping away with her stride.

Beside her, Rodwen’s russet coat glistens dark and damp, the sharp points of his fur spiking across the breadth of his shoulders like thorns. Each ripple of muscle beneath the soaked pelt speaks of strength, yet his pace remains unhurried, steady, a silent reassurance against the chill that gnaws at her bones.

But despite the nip of cold gnawing at her ears and the dull ache of frost creeping into her paws, a warmth bloomed in Lunis’ chest, spreading slow and steady like the sun rising behind the trees.

“I’ll check the border!” Blaze’s bark rang out beside her, bright as birdsong and brimming with that boundless spark of youth. Before she could answer, the youngster shoots forward, paws drumming against the earth as his lean form vanishes into the tangle of brush ahead.

For a few heartbeats, only the rustle of branches betrayed his presence. Then he burst back through the undergrowth, tongue lolling, his fur dusted with leaves and twigs. With a vigorous shake of his pelt, he beamed at them all. “Nope! No bears here!”

A roll of Lunis’ eyes came unbidden, though she couldn’t suppress the tug of a smile curling her lips. Mischief had a way of clinging to Blake like burrs to fur—irritating to some, but oddly warming all the same. And today seems to be no exception.

The sudden flap of wings shattered the quiet, a bird spooked from its perch vanishing into the fog with a startled cry. The sound lingered, echoing strangely in the haze, and every muscle in Lunis’ body tensed. She froze mid-step, ears pricked high, her heart beating fast against the unnerving silence that followed.

Though she knew Rohan and the other half of the Sunrise patrol were only a howl away, the fog warped the world into something uncanny. The familiar trees stretched into looming shadows, their trunks half-swallowed by drifting white. Her homeland no longer felt like home—it felt like the strange, untethered space of her dreams.

A chill crept down her spine, and she gave her pelt a sharp shake, sending dew droplets scattering in a glittering spray. Still, the unease clung to her skin like frost.

Rodwen’s voice cut through the tension, low but steady. When he glanced back, a faint smile tugged his muzzle, though his amber eyes searched her carefully. “Cold?”

She forced a small huff of air through her nose, padding quickly to reclaim her place at his side. “No,” she answers, though her voice carries a stiffness she can't quite mask. “Just… a little on edge. I didn’t sleep too well.”

A half-truth. One she hoped would be enough to settle his curiosity—because the truth, the nightmare that still clawed at the back of her mind, was a burden she wasn’t ready to share.

Rodwen only hums, low and thoughtful, though the glint in his amber eyes suggests there’s more behind it. “You don’t need to be so reserved with me, Lunis.” His tone is playful, teasing even, yet the words cut deeper than they should.

Something in her chest tightens. Reserved? The word digs like a thorn beneath her skin, irritating, impossible to ignore. What is he seeing in her that she doesn’t?