Echoes Of War

CHAPTER XII | RUSHING WATERS

Lunis' paws thrum steadily against the compact earth, each stride carrying her along the well-worn trail etched into the land by moons upon moons of wolves before her. Ancestors, packmates, generations long gone-their steps are preserved here, pressed into the very soil she treads. The thought sends a quiet shiver racing down her spine. She feels them at her back, shadowing her every move, as though the weight of their legacy pushes her forward.

The migratory patrol. One of the most important of the season. It is not just a hunt, nor a simple scouting-it is the pack's first step in preparing for the long moons ahead, when Thushar's icy breath will smother the world beneath his snow. To trace the elk herds now, to chart their movements, means survival when prey grows scarce and the land freezes hard.

And though her chest stirs with the thrill of being part of something so vital, a boulder still rests heavy on her shoulders.

Because just a few Suns ago, another patrol had returned with troubling news. A carcass-fresh, brutal, and deep within the mountains near the Eastern border. Not felled by predator or hunger, but torn down by wolves. Wolves that were not of their pack.

The mystery of it presses into her ribs like thorns. First the carcass near the marshlands, now this. It is no longer a chance. Whoever these wolves are, they strike with purpose. Intentional. And the uncertainty gnaws at her worse than hunger.

"Hey."

Her ears flick at the sound, and when she cranes her head to the side, her chest warms instantly at the sight of Rodwen's amber eyes fixed gently on hers. His voice comes softer than the wind through pines, carrying a weight of tenderness that nearly undoes her. "Is everything alright, love?"

The words take her a heartbeat to settle into, sinking through her like water seeping into thirsty earth. She can't help the way her lips curl into a small smile, heat flushing to her cheeks. "Yes-I'm merely thoughtful, is all."

Her gaze drifts over her shoulder, carried on the tide of her thoughts, until it lands on Blaze. The youngster bounds ahead with Ishka at his side, words tumbling from his mouth too quickly for her to catch, though Ishka's laughter rings clear in the morning air as she matches his eager stride.

Lunis' heart swells with affection at the sight-yet it is tinged with an ache she cannot quiet. A moon may have passed since his injury, but still the thorn of worry remains, pricking at her chest. She watches the way he favors his paw ever so slightly, the way his boundless energy masks a fragility that only she seems to notice.

Rodwen's flank brushes hers lightly as though he senses the storm of her thoughts, his steady presence anchoring her. "Blaze isn't a pup anymore. You two need to stop coddling each other and live a little."

A scoff escapes her throat before she can stop it. "Maybe. But he worries so much about others, he forgets to take care of himself at times. Yes, he's not a pup-but he's my best friend. We look out for each other."

Rodwen's eyes soften, the amber depths glowing with a warmth that steals her breath. "You have a good heart, Lunis."

The words, so simple and yet so heavy, strike her like a stone skipping across still water-rippling through her chest, stirring places she thought long sealed. Her gaze flickers away, ears twitching as if to deflect the weight of his praise. A good heart? Any wolf would have done the same. Wouldn't they? What makes her so different?

And yet, the way he looks at her-steady, unflinching, as though he truly sees her-it's enough to set her thoughts unraveling, pulling at a string she isn't sure she wants to follow.

To her relief, Rodwen doesn't press further, though Lunis notices the way he edges closer-so close their pelts brush with each stride. The contact prickles her skin, a tingling that sparks along her limbs like ants under fur.