Morning arrived beneath a sky the color of weathered steel.
Heavy clouds stretched across the horizon, muting the sunlight and casting the forest beneath a dull gray haze. The air felt unusually still, as though even the wind had become reluctant to move through the trees. Moisture lingered on leaves from the night before, collecting along branches and dripping steadily onto the forest floor below.
The camp woke slowly.
Normally, dawn brought movement almost immediately. Fires were rekindled. Patrols exchanged reports. Hunters prepared for the day ahead while conversations drifted between shelters.
Today felt different.
The routines remained.
The energy behind them did not.
Nyra noticed it before anyone spoke a word.
She stood near the central clearing watching wolves move through
