Redsand Canyon Such a dark destiny

The white wolf whirled on him with madness in her gaze.

Crowfeather held his snout high, still. His heart raced wickedly in his chest.

Nyra’s first snap found purchase in the flesh of his snout, slicing it clean and spilling blood down his muzzle. He had reared back, pulling himself away from her as though she would light him ablaze if she so much as touched him. Be smarter, he cursed at himself internally.

For every step toward him that she made, he jumped backward two more. The days traveling along the mountains, chasing goats up the slopes of the stone faces, living off the world with only the strength of their two bodies, those days had changed his figure. Crowfeather was swifter now, he was sharper than he had been before. Germanicus had done more for him than he ever could have imagined.

The shadow whirled so that he could remain out of her reach.

You’ve made a terrible mistake, the yearling called to her boldly, his voice caught in the back of his throat only once.