ALAENA’S POV
Stack them up, burn them down.
I was getting used to the smell of roasting Croonie corpses.
Every time I killed them, anytime we burnt their bodies it felt like one down, one less Croonie to deal with…it felt —good.
Doing something to help.
This land, my home, the Westlands had become a shadow of itself.
People had moved to concentration camps closer to the Blakhart-pack region where the Monti pack and others took turns looking out for Croonies and keeping guard.
Staying in their homes and going to their farms was not safe anymore.
We were going through another small village that had been evacuated.
Titus made a really quick recovery after two meals and a short nap while Roy and I were on lookout duty.
Recent events had overshadowed our “moment”, and we both have not
