Tim stared into the fire, feeling more relaxed than he had in days as he felt its warmth and listened to the crackle of the flames.

“You seem more at ease now, meu drassul,” Sylvie said, sitting down next to Tim and offering him a bowl of broth leftover from the night before. “You should eat. We are almost out of the mountains now. Tonight, we will rest in the woods well on the way to Hobson’s Point.”

Tim nodded and took the bowl, the rich smell of the food making him keenly aware of just how hungry he was. “Thanks, Sylvie, I appreciate it.”

Sylvie smiled warmly and kissed his cheek right as Blane came to join them. Her brother rolled his eyes, but made no comment, which was about as close to acceptance as Tim was going to get at this point.

The journey to see Sylvie’s family had gone well, all things considered. Their bond had been examined and, based on that, her decision about how they should approach the future had been accepted.

Tim still didn’t really understand the soul thing, but he’d let them do their tests, and he’d put up with the judgement and scorn of those who disagreed with Sylvie.

To some of the Airta, Tim would never be more than a strab. Never more than a mistake that Sylvie had made.

To Tim’s relief, not everyone had that opinion. In fact, the majority seemed to support changing things.

Sylvie, Blane and Zhalia had come north with Tim, but they were returning with a dozen others and a score of fraktiri.

Tim frowned as he caught himself referring to the wolves by the Airta term, he’d fully immersed himself in their culture these last few weeks, and it was showing.

“Sefvan, I have news,” one of the new Airta said, coming over to join them with a disquieted look on his face. A pair of sleek brown wolves followed along beside him, marking him as a Draskir, much like Blane, though his fraktiri were less impressive.

Blane had spent their time north of the mountains searching for a new bond companion, and he’d eventually returned with Frida in tow.

Frida was a large frost wolf with a pure white coat that was always covered in a slight layer of rime. She was bigger and stronger than the mundane wolves in the group, and both her bite and her breath could freeze her prey.

It was rare for a Draskir to bond anything but a mundane animal, and Blane’s triumphant return had caused almost as much of a stir as Tim’s arrival.

“What is it?” Sylvie sat up as the Draskir sat down next to Blane.

“One of my cousins lives outside the city with his fraktiri, I met with him last night to discuss our path and he warned that the area around Dresk isn’t safe.”

“How so?” Sylvie asked with a frown.

“He said there is something raiding the farmsteads and killing the local game. Something unnatural is there, Sefvan. We should cross to the other side of the pass and descend there.”

The honorific the other Airta used was for the leader of a pack, which Sylvie had become when she was given leave to establish a new branch of the tribe at Hobson’s Point.

Tim didn’t really understand the social aspects of it, but then, he didn’t need to. What mattered was that this was Sylvie’s pack, and it was her decision what they did next.

“No,” Sylvie said after a moment of thought, her expression turning dark in a way that Tim recognised. “Listen to me, meu frakti!”

Silence had fallen on the small camp they’d set up, every Airta and every wolf and dog that had joined them focusing on Sylvie as she got to her feet and bared her teeth.

“Too long have we sat back and done nothing, afraid of the reaction of the world. The forests are our home, and they are a refuge for darkness no more. Nos vanatull!”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

A rumbling growl came from the camp, and Tim was shocked to realise that he was growling right along with the rest of them. Sylvie’s declaration had spoken to something deep inside him, and he felt righteous anger build with each beat of his heart.

Sylvie silver hair shone in the morning light as she continued, pitching her voice above the growling. “Draskir, you will lead the way. Your fraktiri will be our eyes and ears as we seek out whatever blights this land. Kel vanata lurre. The hunt is calling and we shall answer.”

-**-

For all of the fire that Sylvie’s declaration had roused in the Airta, it still took time for the camp to be broken down and everything packed away.

Several of the biggest Airta were acting as packhorses for them all, though Tim would never phrase it that way to their face, and carrying everything.

The amount of extras that an Airta could shift along with themselves was based on their size. That meant that while Sylvie could shift herself, her clothes and any gear she was carrying, some others could carry entire backpacks.

As the only human in the group, Tim felt somewhat out of place in moments like this, but he knew it would change soon.

He’d spent enough time with the Airta now that he felt the full effects of the hunt once it began.

Walking over to a raised ridge that sat next to their camp, Tim looked out over the edge of the mountains and down at the city beneath them.

The path through the mountains was treacherous and old, making it unsuitable for anyone who didn’t have the natural strength and agility of the Airta.

Sadly, that did include Tim, but he’d done his best, and the others had helped where they could.

The growing camaraderie with these Airta was nice, but Tim missed his brother and couldn’t wait to get back to Hobson’s Point.

“Concerned?” Zhalia asked, stepping up beside Tim as he stared down at the distant city of Dresk.

“Should I be?” Tim turned to the Cleric with a searching look, hoping she knew something he didn’t.

Zhalia was a Cleric of Dassdarth, and was one of the few Airta who went into combat in her human form. She was also their only healer, so she would be a priority for everyone to protect.

“Perhaps,” Zhalia said with a slight shrug. “My Lord will bless us and our hunt, but nothing is certain.”

“Do you know what we’re hunting?”

“No, but I have confidence in our capability.”

Tim grunted, hoping that her confidence wasn’t misplaced.

-**-

The trip down the mountain was just as treacherous as the one they’d come up, with all the Airta taking it in their wolf forms.

Tim had to work hard to not fall behind too much, and that was with one of the Airta helping him.

Sylvie was far ahead at this point, leading the pack and organising the start of the hunt as they linked up with the local Airta. She intended to flush out whatever was here as soon as possible before it could do more damage.

Climbing carefully down a steep section, Tim dropped down to a lower ledge with a grunt. He was almost there, just a little further.

The Airta sticking with him scrabbled down a steep slope in his wolf form before jumping clear of the last section altogether and landing in a puff of rock dust and dirt.

“Damn showoff,” Tim muttered as he clambered down the last section and caught up. “Alright, where to now?”

The Airta huffed and tossed his head, staying in his wolf form as he gestured for Tim to follow him.

Shifting between forms used a lot of energy for the Airta, and with a hunt coming, they would want to keep as much in reserve as they could.

Following behind the big wolf, Tim took a real look at their surroundings, noting the thick woodlands that he’d spotted from earlier.

This area of the land around Dresk seemed relatively untamed. There were farmsteads here and there, but nothing much beyond that.

Tim supposed that people didn’t really want to live this close to the mountains. The popular land would be further south.

Glancing at the ground around them, Tim saw a lot of paw prints heading in the direction they were going. It looked like they were tailing along behind the main group, which meant that if they found anything, he’d be too far away to do anything about it.

Slowing down, Tim saw a slope off to their left and called ahead to the Airta. “Hang on, let’s cut up here and see if we can make up some time on them.”

Either he’d see where they were and be able to head after them directly, or they’d be in no worse a position then they were now.

The Airta rumbled in displeasure but trotted along behind as Tim hiked up the incline in search of a better vantage point.

“There we go, much better.” Tim muttered under his breath as he got clear of the trees and got a view of the area.

The land to the south was slowly sloping down as it got further from the mountains, giving Tim a good enough view to pick out the Airta hunting party in the distance.

They were maybe a mile or two away, moving across some open terrain in an open formation. The Airta were in the centre, with the fraktiri fanning out around them like the fingers of a questing hand.

Tim eyed the land, looking for a way to cut some time off and catch up with the others.

Movement caught his eye as he did, and Tim saw a second group, off to the left this time. They were slinking through the shadows where possible, but from up here he could make out the rough details.

Tim paled as he realised what he was looking at, but that shock faded as he saw the farmstead through the trees and knew with grim certainty that was where they were going.

“Go to Sylvie, tell her it’s the Cyth, and they’re raiding a farmstead. I’m going to try and get there first and warn the locals,” Tim said, already starting back down the hill.

The Airta growled but did as he asked, letting out a long howl before sprinting north as fast as he could.