I'm dodging fallen trees and thorn bushes. I hear a few members of my pack trying to catch up, their paws loping against the forest floor quickly, but my focus is in front of me. On Hanna. On her lingering scent, only a few hours old.
In the distance, I hear what sounds like warning bells. From the hunter's compound, only a few miles ahead.
Damn it! If they have her...if they've touched her, her own people-
I skid the a halt and bank left. A new scent from her. A recognizable one but deeper. Fear. Terror. Danger and panic.
I follow it further.
A moment later, I approach a small clearing. Tracks are scattered across the dirt. Hers and...other's. Rogue tracks.
Fuck. f**k!
Another smell. Urine. I investigate further to find the spot where she must have sat and wet herself out of f
