11
DARRIO
Marro saw the first one. Hanging from a tree near the river. With paws hacked off and throat slit. It was not a wolf he knew, not one of the Wulhor-Aaen, but it had frightened him and he had come dashing back into the den to tell the alpha pair. The next morning, five adults went to see, instructing the yearlings to stay behind at the den to mind the newborn pups in case there was danger.
The adults came across the rotting carcass and Marro coughed up bile. No one spoke for a long time, dumbstruck by what could have happened to this wolf. Where are his paws? The question kept repeating in Darrio’s mind.
“Split in two.” The alpha male, Arro, broke the silence. “One go left along river, other go right. Keep low and out of sight, stay together and go for as long as you feel sa
