Echoes Of War

CHAPTER XI | WHISPERS IN THE DARK

Lunis' nostrils flare with a sigh, her breath stirring the dew-damp grass at her paws. Restlessness pricks beneath her skin like a thousand tiny thorns. She lifts her gaze, sky-blue orbs following the sun's familiar glow as it dips lower, swallowed by the shaded walls of the forest beyond. With every inch of fading light, her chest tightens, a quiet yearning pulling at her heart.

Around her, the densite feels unnervingly still-lifeless but for the faint silhouettes of the few wolves left behind with her. Their bodies lie draped in the hollows, shadows curled into shadows, unmoving, their sides rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. Silence clings to the air, heavy and absolute, broken only by the occasional rasping snore that drifts from Silver's sleeping boulder. The sound scratches across her nerves, a reminder that even in stillness, the world refuses to let her find peace.

Her ears flick, straining for something-anything-beyond this suffocating lull. A howl. A bird's cry. Even the rustle of prey in the grass. But the forest beyond keeps its secrets close, and she is left with only her thoughts, spiraling tighter and tighter inside her chest.

Earlier that day, the pack had set out in pursuit of a small elk herd, splintered from the larger migration-a rare opportunity too good to ignore. As always, the risk of too many wolves jeopardizing the stalk meant that only a chosen few were left behind. Today, fate had tethered Lunis to the densite, alongside Hati, Kopa, and Ishka.

She had accepted it without protest, but the silence of waiting gnaws at her more than any hunger. Her paws itch for the chase, for the thunder of hooves and the burn of wind in her lungs. Instead, she is rooted here, watching shadows stretch and listening to the slow, steady breaths of her companions.

Kopa dozes nearby, his tail twitching in dream. Ishka rests with her muzzle tucked beneath her paw, though Lunis can tell by the flick of her ears that she isn't truly asleep. Even Hati, ever watchful, has settled onto his haunches, eyes half-lidded as though the weight of the still sunfall has dulled his vigilance. By his side, Sköll lies sprawled on his flank, his pale mask softened by the hush of sleep. For once, his usual sharp edges are smoothed away-no snark, no stubborn fire-only the quiet rise and fall of his chest, his breath steady and calm. In slumber, he looks almost untouchable, as though the weight of the world has finally lifted from his shoulders.

Her gaze drops back to her paws, steady against the earth, though her thoughts wander far beyond the quiet den. They drift toward the taiga, where the pack is no doubt locked in the wild rhythm of the hunt.

She closes her eyes, and in an instant she's with them. She feels the thrum of paws pounding beside hers, the crisp wind tearing through her fur, the musk of elk sharp in her nose. Her chest heaves with the imagined weight of pursuit, her pulse racing with the phantom thrill of the chase. In her mind, she runs wild and unbound, her body moving as one with the pack, every stride a song of freedom.

But when her eyes flick open, reality is stillness. Only the gentle rustle of leaves and the slow rise and fall of slumbering bodies greet her. The empty air feels colder for it, and a pang tugs at her chest-an ache for something she can almost touch but cannot grasp.

And then, just as the peace begins to seep into her bones, a tantalizing scent pricks her nose. Musky. Warm. Alive.

Her head snaps up, ears rigid, the drowsy fog scattering like leaves in a gale. Every nerve in her body sings with sudden alertness, paws already shifting against the ground as excitement courses through her veins. Prey. Close.

From his stone perch, Silver's daffodil eyes blink open, dulled by age yet glinting with watchful wisdom. His muzzle parts with a gravelly croak, voice husky with sleep.

"Everything okay there, Lunis?"

She turns sharply to him, tail twitching, unable to keep the thrill from her voice.