As Jack rode on Grim, the human couldn't help but be amazed at how much the wolgen had grown in less than a year and in more than one way! He'd gotten a little larger than Angela's first assessment. Now he was roughly the height of a Quarter Horse, but with the body and musculature of a predator somewhere between dog, cat, and lizard, he was much heavier, and the human could feel the incredible power in his movements. But he'd also matured considerably, probably due to Sare'en's ministrations, and was easier to control as a result.

Though there was still a bit of a pup in there, as Jack could tell when he had to reign Grim in when the wolgen got distracted by yet another exciting smell in the area. "Come on boy, get your head in the game. I know this is new and exciting territory for ya, but it can't smell all that much different from everywhere else we've been in the last week!"

Finally, Grim tore himself away from his latest point of interest and trotted to catch back up with S'haar, who looked up with bemusement. "What's the matter, Grim giving you trouble?"

Jack shook his head. "Not trouble, really. He just seems a little distracted today. This is the first time we've seen him at this time of year as an adult. He'll have many biological and genetic drives that we're just beginning to understand. But as long as he's still answering commands, I'm not too worried about it. He's just got a much more powerful nose than us and can smell things that mean nothing to you and me." Jack punctuated his last few words with a few affectionate pats to the side of Grim's neck, earning an affectionate whuffing as the wolgen turned to get a sniff of the human.

S'haar raised an eye ridge and flicked her tongue out to remind Jack that he was definitely the most deficient one present regarding his sense of smell. Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright, just me then. Still, I don't see you bending down to sniff every new scent we pass like Grim here, so I'm guessing his sense of smell is to yours is what yours is to mine."

The warrior woman tilted her head in acknowledgment of the human's point before returning her gaze to the path they traveled. "That's probably true, though it is a skill that can be developed through time and practice. Usually, it's mostly hunters that bother to really refine it. You should ask Lon'thul about it sometime."

Jack filed that bit of information away to be looked into another time. "Not to change subjects, but any update on the hill people? We are passing through their territory, and I expected a few skirmishes or at least some trouble with our scouts."

S'haar reached up to her headset. "Lon'thul, anything to report? Any sign of the hill people?"

After a moment, Lon'thul's voice came back as cheerful as ever. "Well, I found a den of churlish that might make some good eating tonight, but other than that, no real news. I've spotted a few hunters that probably belonged to the hill people, but they seemed more interested in avoiding us than causing trouble. None of them have even tried to get past our hunters to get a better look at our camp, so I'm guessing they're keeping an eye on us in the loosest possible sense. They probably think we're another raiding party sent up by the villages and are adopting a strategy of avoidance rather than confrontation. I doubt they've fully recovered from what Jack did to them a little over a year ago and aren't looking to start a real fight just yet."

S'haar looked over at Jack. "It would seem your idea of going north rather than making for the coast is paying off. If our luck holds, we might slip past B'arthon's reach before he can muster a reasonable force and catch us."

Jack looked at S'haar wearily. "You know, among my people, it's considered bad luck to talk about how things are going well. Admittedly, that's probably just confirmation bias caused by the fact that adverse events stick in our minds better than neutral or even positive ones. But superstition or not, a part of me dies inside when you say something like that."

S'haar smiled wickedly and winked. "You should be used to parts of yourself dying inside by now. I'm fairly certain you've made a hobby out of tempting death. Or is it the other way around?"

Jack groaned. "Now you're just doing it on purpose!"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

-

Ger'ron noticed Lady Angela seemed a bit more lost in thought than usual. When on the road, she usually constantly chatted with anyone within earshot, but today she was quiet. If the old soldier didn't know any better, he'd say she was acting apprehensive. So, finally, he approached the silvery AI and cleared his throat.

Finally, Angela looked up from her introspection and noticed the older argu'n. "Ger'ron, is there anything I can help you with?"

The soldier grinned as he walked. "I was wondering the opposite, actually. Seems like you've got quite the weight on your mind today. What's got you so uncharacteristically thoughtful?"

Angela seemed a little taken aback at that. "Hey! I'll have you know I'm always thoughtful! I'm just a little more distracted today, is all..."

Ger'ron tilted his head in acknowledgment of her point. "Fair enough. What's got you so distracted then?"

Angela sighed. Apparently, she had no need for things like breathing, so it was all an act, but Ger'ron would never have known if Em'brel hadn't explained it to him. Finally, she continued. "Well, there are all the usual things I worry about, Jack, all of you, the future of this world, and more. But I'm here; I can do something if there's trouble. With Vox, though... I couldn't watch over her and Jack simultaneously, so I had to choose. As crucial as Vox is, and even though she's family, Jack is mortal in a way she is not. There's still peril for her and me, but it's not quite the same. So I made my choice, and now all I can do is wonder and worry about her."

Ger'ron nodded. "It's natural to worry about those you care for, especially when they seem helpless from your perspective. But until you become an actual goddess, you'll have to accept that other people's fates are beyond your ability to determine."

Angela shook her head. "Believe me, I know..." She then cut off mid-thought at Lon'thol's voice cut in over Ger'ron's headset. "Uh, S'haar, we might have trouble ahead..."

-

Lon'thul was enjoying his role as a scout. Carefully looking for any and all threats while remaining unseen and guiding the camp along the safest, most secure path through the wilds. It felt a little like hunting but was different enough that it was a new challenge. Or at least it had been.

These days he had it down pretty well. Things had gotten really exciting the first time he'd seen one of the hill people's hunters in the area, but he'd been acting so apprehensive that Lon'thul allowed himself to be seen on a hunch. Though he'd kept his bow at the ready in case of trouble. The hunter ran away as if spooked, and apparently, the other hunters turned scouts had reported similar encounters, though none as close as Lon'thul had gotten. Since then, such meetings have become a relatively regular occurrence, with one of the hill people being spotted at least once every other day, though Lon'thul wasn't familiar enough with the local tribes to know how many tribes the different hunters represented.

Still, he kept a close eye out for any hill people who acted aggressively or seemed to be trying to get a closer look at the camp. While it could just be surprise or curiosity, it could also represent the hill people finally considering offensive action, but it never happened. Instead, the most challenging aspect seemed to be resisting the urge to hunt all the prey Lon'thul saw evidence of during the day. There was an abundance of animals this far from the larger valleys villages, though he'd note any signs he found when they were nearing the next stopping point for the day.

Still, with all this prey, the hill people's camps must be significantly smaller than even the least populated village. How had they brought so many raiders to attack the outpost that first year?

That was when Lon'thul came across a large number of tracks, far more than one or two hunters looking for animals. Also, many of the tracks lacked the telltale signs of the careful stride of a hunter instinctively moving through the forest to avoid detection. Instead, most were heavier, sinking into the ground as if they were carrying significantly more weight, but there was also no sign they were carrying prey of any kind, meaning they were carrying heavier gear. Still, while there wasn't evidence of enough argu'n to threaten the camp, this wasn't a hunting party. This was a raiding party, or maybe...

Lon'thul reached up to his headset, activating it to call in the situation while also keeping an eye out for anything else worth worrying about. "Uh, S'haar, we might have trouble ahead... There are signs of a group of hill people moving through here, better armed than any hunters we've seen until now."

S'haar responded quickly, and Lon'thul knew the rest of the camp's leadership was listening intently. "Any idea on how many or where they're headed?"

It was a bit hard to determine the exact number, given that it looked like they'd been walking in a clumped group, but based on various claw sizes and shapes, he could hazard a rough guess. "I'd estimate about twenty, though I could be off by half in either direction. They seem to be headed in nearly the same direction as us, though with a slight westerly angle."

Then Lon'thal saw it, the thing he'd been afraid to find. "Though I don't think they're here for us, they've got other problems to deal with."

At that, Jack's voice cut in. "What kind of problems are we talking about here?"

Looking at the set of claw marks deeply gouged into the nearby trees, Lon'thul answered. "Wolgen. A mated pair."