The old barn creaked with age as the wind whispered through its splintered wood. Nathan lay curled up near the far wall, his massive black form barely distinguishable from the shadows around him. Caked in mud and streaked with dried blood, his breaths were slow but steady—finally leveling out after hours of painful exertion.
Rory sat close beside him, her knees pulled to her chest as she watched his chest rise and fall. Every so often, his ears twitched or his paws jerked, like he was dreaming or reliving the fight. She gently ran her fingers through the thick fur at his neck, careful to avoid the deeper wounds.
“He’s healing faster than I expected,” Peter said from a few feet away, chewing the last bite of a granola bar. “But still not fast enough.”
Rory nodded. “He’s pushing himself t
