We left the pack house two hours after full dark.
The group was small by design — Asher, Torren, two of her fastest quiet-movers, Renn from the earlier southern sweep, and me. No banners. No extra noise. We wore dark, close-fitting gear and moved under a strict silence protocol until we cleared the inner markers. The bond between Asher and me stayed drawn tight the entire time, a constant low awareness of his position even when he was only a few paces ahead.
Torren set the pace. She knew the outer paths better than anyone still living in the pack, and she used that knowledge to keep us off the most obvious lines. Every so often she raised a closed fist and the group stopped as one, listening. Each time the forest answered with ordinary night sound, and we moved again.
I kept my dual bla
