33
DARRIO
After days of running and clambering up and over the small Meliok mountains, Darrio picked up the scent of home in his nostrils. A wash of wolf odours flooded his senses after many moons away and he stood on two legs and howled in delight.
Sarry nudged his ankle and growled low in warning. She slunk next to him, cautious and alert, and not so happy to be back in Zwullfr.
He dropped to all fours. “What, daughter?”
“No welcome here,” she said and crept forward.
He frowned and followed her. She had been sullen the entire journey, cagey about why they had to return, tense. As they had neared, her mood had soured as his had lightened. Darrio did not share her reluctance to return. With every step closer his excitement swelled in his chest. I’ll see my sons once again. My War
