The following morning arrived cold. Not unusually cold for autumn, but cold enough that frost clung stubbornly to patches of grass along the eastern training fields while thin ribbons of fog drifted through the territory.
The sun had barely cleared the mountains when White Wolf began stirring awake around me. Warriors returning from night patrol crossed paths with early risers heading toward training, and somewhere deeper in the village, the scent of breakfast carried through the crisp morning air.
I was already awake. Years of training had made sleeping late nearly impossible, much to my annoyance.
Coffee warmed my hands as I made my way toward the patrol station, following a familiar path through territory that looked deceptively peaceful in the early morning light. Lanterns still bu
