The first sign was so small that most wolves ignored it.
A boundary stone cracked.
Just a thin line running down the center of the ancient marker near the northern ridge of Valcor territory.
The patrol wolf who discovered it stood staring for a long time before reporting it.
Because the stone had not moved in decades.
Not since the night Valcor claimed the land.
Two days later, the hunting packs returned empty-handed.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three patrols in a row.
The forests north of the ridge had always been rich with deer and mountain goats. Enough to feed the territory easily.
But suddenly the animals were gone.
Tracks led away from the forests.
South.
As if the wildlife itself had decided to leave.
In the western farms, crops began failing.
They were turning brown every
