Sable's POV
Yarrow sent me back to camp with more questions than I walked in with, and no real answers to go along with them. I spent the walk back turning her words over ‘he stopped halfway through’ trying to figure out what that even meant for someone like me.
By the time I reached the fire pit, the sun had started dipping low, and the camp had shifted into its evening rhythm. Someone was cooking something over the flames that smelled better than anything Reva ever let me eat. A few wolves sat scattered around, talking low, glancing my way and then quickly not glancing my way, the same dance I'd gotten used to over the past few days.
I found a spot near the edge of the fire, far enough from the crowd to not feel like I was intruding, close enough to actually feel warm.
"You're the on
