We rode out at sundown.
Forty warriors moved in silence through the pine forests east of the Den, most in wolf form, their paws barely disturbing the frost-crusted undergrowth. Caleb had chosen to travel in human form for the first leg, which meant I did too, mounted on a sturdy gray mare Kira had assured me was "too stubborn to spook."
The mare's name was Ash. She hated me.
"You're gripping the reins like she's going to throw you," Caleb said from beside me, riding a black stallion that looked as though it had been carved from the same darkness as its owner.
"She *is* going to throw me."
"Only because you're expecting her to." He leaned over without warning and adjusted my hands, loosening my fingers, repositioning my grip. "Horses read fear the way wolves read scent. Loosen up."
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