Redtail Rise captive pursuit

He spent the first few days learning the lay of the land, often walking its perimeter to get a sense of the territory’s breadth. He studied the scents he found there, many of them familiar and fresh while others grew stale as the days passed. By his count, there were about half a dozen adult wolves, including himself.

There were pups too, he soon discovered when he ventured inward. Cambria figured they must be from the same litter as the child who’d been kidnapped. He followed their scent trail and caught sight of them in the distance, though the yearling did not approach at first. He observed for a while, then slipped back toward the fringes.

The next time he walked toward the heart of the territory, he saw a reddish figure slumped on the ground. Cambria halted, eyeing the cub from afar. He craned forward, trying to snatch its—his, the yearling’s nose told him—scent from the air. He smelled neither illness nor injury.

The other puppies were paler and, if he wasn’t mistaken, they were larger than this one too. Where is your mother? he caught himself thinking, two-toned eyes cutting left and right as if expecting her to emerge at any moment. Yet no one appeared.

He huffed out a breath and took a single step closer, then stopped again to see if the puppy would react.