26
Fern
“Now that the snows are less, we might have visitors.” Svein commented the next morning. He squatted by the firepit, poking leaves into the ashes to see if one would light.
“Visitors?” I asked.
“Some of the pack, hunting us.”
“But, the Alpha’s cut you off.”
“Yes,” Dagg said, coming in with an armful of wood. “and there’s one benefit to that. They won’t be able to find us as easily.”
“They can track us,” Svein commented, moving out of the way so Dagg could finish the fire.
“We can hide out tracks.”
“Wait,” I said. “Why don’t you want them to find you?”
Svein had his knife out now and was rubbing soap on his face to shave. He caught me watching and grinned. The memory of that knife sent heat flooding to my lower half, and I blushed.
“They’ll take you from us again and driv
