The earth does not just tremble this time. It shudders.
I feel it through my boots, a deep grinding roll that makes my teeth clack together. The air in the border pack turns strange and thin, as if something is stealing the breath from it. Wolves freeze mid step. A warrior drops the crate he is carrying and it splinters against the ground.
The medic hut, a squat building of wood and stone near the inner fence, gives a low groan. A hairline crack zigzags up its side, widening with a sharp pop. A shelf inside collapses. Glass shatters. The medic rushes out, eyes wide, hands full of bandages that spill uselessly at his feet when the ground buckles again.
“Outside, now,” someone shouts. “Get away from the structures.”
Wolves scatter into open spaces on instinct. Some shift halfway, bracing
