The Bracken Woods tell them God just dropped by to forgive our sins

Skipping Holden with permission. Pulling Cypress also, since it is now collar time and I need to think about what is going to happen to him. ♥

Politeness warred with aversion as the lanky, long-legged creature drew nearer still despite Cypress’ overt warning. In horror, the Frostfur regarded the oddly built creatures who scuttled out of the woodwork one by one; there was something sickly and dangerous about their comingled scents, and it set his skin to prickling. The sweet, almost seductive whisper of the serpentine brute grated on the raven’s nerves — his ears twitched their offense and then stilled as the abominations’ leader began to speak. The wolf, at least, seemed to speak his language and had stepped back. “I am not among you, and you cannot assist me,” he spat plainly, distancing himself from Longshanks with a series of slow, deliberate sidesteps. He was not quite retreating, but he would not tolerate the feeling of being surrounded. Slowly, he kited the group, his eyes trained on Oqdis but every sense aware.

It was at this point that he realized he couldn’t smell Alya anymore — and his terrified, tormented mind put the blame on the newcomers. He needed her. He needed her.

He needed —

Harsh words gathered on his tongue, but his baleful eyes turned wildly toward the two-toned creature whose femininity was unmistakable. In the presence of a lady, he didn’t dare unleash his kneejerk statement, so he swallowed the vitriol. “A girl,” he growled. “Black fur, blue eyes. She was here. She was.” The more he tried to convince them [and to remind himself] the crazier he sounded, even to his own ears; he winced at the way that desperate note cracked his rusty baritenor and put his nose desperately to the earth.

Nothing.

The earth was soft, but there were no prints aside from his own. As dainty as Alya was, even she would have left prints behind — but it was as if he’d been sleeping with a ghost.

Could he have imagined the entire thing?

“No,” he breathed brokenly — and threw his body into a westward sprint.