CHAPTER 60: THE BEAST WE FORGOT
The first hard frost held fast, and the days grew short and sharp. We spent our evenings in the great hall at Black Rock, copying stories, mending gear, and listening to messengers bring word of how the new agreements were holding across the valleys. For months we had heard nothing but progress — disputes settled fairly, shared stores filling up, old borders fading into memory. But then came a report that stopped all conversation cold.
A rider from the deep northern woods told us that whole hunting camps had gone silent. Trails used for generations were overgrown. Families who had traded with outsiders for as long as anyone could remember had vanished, leaving fires burning and half‑eaten meals on their tables. The few who had fled said people spoke of the
