***Rainah***
The fire had burned down to a bed of glowing, pulse-like embers, casting long, skeletal shadows against the granite walls of the ravine. Sawyer was still awake, his eyes tracing the patterns of the smoke as it spiraled toward the sliver of night sky visible above us. He looked different in the quiet—less like the hunter who had stalked us for weeks, and more like a man who had finally run out of places to hide.
I sat a few feet away, my own gaze fixed on the darkness. The pack was sleeping, their breathing a soft, steady rhythm that usually brought me peace. Tonight, it just felt heavy. Every rustle of the wind, every snap of a branch, felt like a reminder of the fragility of our existence.
"You're still thinking about it," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
Sawyer turned
