The morning sun barely peeked over the horizon when Lucy stepped out onto the porch, a leather satchel slung over her shoulder and a solemn look in her dark, lined eyes. Mist clung to the edges of the dense pine trees that bordered her land, and the air still held the chill of night.
Inside, Rory tightened the laces on her borrowed hiking boots and glanced at Peter, who was still half-asleep and fussing with the strap on his backpack.
“You ready?” she asked, her voice low.
Peter groaned, “Ready to hike over two thousand miles to find a mountain tribe that may or may not even exist? Not in the slightest.”
Rory chuckled dryly, then looked over at Nathan. He lay sprawled on Lucy’s old rug, his massive black wolf body coiled and alert, eyes watching her every move. His fur gleamed in the f
