They heard the howls again, multiple this time. Not just one or two but a chorus of direwolves, all crying out from different corners of the forest.
It wasn't night yet. The sun still filtered dimly through the thick canopy, yet the air felt colder, heavier, as if dusk had suddenly fallen over their path.
Jan's hand moved without thought. In one fluid motion he reached over his shoulder, grabbed an arrow, and nocked it to his bowstring. Years of practice had made it effortless like his second nature. His fingers were steady. His eyes now already sharper than ever looking around.
Hund's hand gripped the hilt of his sword again, the blade already half-drawn from its sheath. The burn of his earlier injuries didn't matter now. All that mattered was what might come next.
Esther stood upright, her hands already beginning to glow faintly as she called Magic back to her fingers, ready to conjure if needed.
