The ridge took the last light like a blade. Laurel walked the line with Rhea at her shoulder and two new pairs testing their rhythm—pack and rogue side by side, learning not to step on each other's feet.
“Names," Laurel said.
“Jori," said the pack veteran, tipping his chin to the rogue beside him. “This is Tansy. She hears mice."
“I hear lies," Tansy corrected, amused.
“Useful," Rhea said. “Point those ears at the north trail."
They moved until the path narrowed and the creek threw a low voice under the stones. Hal appeared from a deer track with a ledger tucked under his arm and flour on his sleeve like a flag.
“Bread delivered. Two loaves short; Miles has opinions about oats," he reported. “Also, three boys asked if Alpha's fur is as white as rumor. I fined them for thinking with t
