Laughter came over the line. “Yes, sir. I learned my lesson after the last time.” Storms always put his team in a jovial mood. Punch-drunk on adrenaline and exhaustion, they came together afterward to debrief and boast about their hunts.
“What’s our status?”
“The teams are cleaning up now.”
“I’m on my way.” He wanted to check every Hunter who arrived. Injuries were rare but happened. Mornclaws injected their victims with a toxin that masked the pain. If injured, a person might never know. He’d also compile and map out mornclaw sightings, using that information for future patrols and monitoring.
“Not a good idea, sir. I checked in with Belith–you know this was her first storm–and she says… Well, you should check on your mate.”
Merit hung his head. Shamefully. He forgot about his mate.
