By the time Aria and Lena got back from the east loop, the light was already sliding toward evening.
The clearing buzzed with a different kind of energy than usual. Not panic — Nightfall rarely panicked — but a tautness under the usual noise. News of the “lost hikers” had travelled fast.
Mara pressed a bowl of stew into Aria’s hands as soon as she stepped into the hall. “Eat before you debrief,” she ordered. “I refuse to patch up wolves who pass out from drama and low blood sugar.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Aria said, and managed to shovel in a few mouthfuls before Rowan appeared at the end of the bench.
He didn’t say anything until her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. Then: “Walk,” he said.
It wasn’t a command, exactly. More like an invitation that assumed a yes.
She wiped her mouth, set t
