Nova Peak Λ

lorcan spares a glance before turning gold back to the path ahead. then you know what i mean, he says, low. not warm, but not cold either. shared understanding passed between men carved from the same stone.
this way, he mutters then, slipping forward into the undergrowth. his body dropping low, muscles tightening as he moves now. deer sign was fresh; crushed grass and scat.
he flicked his tail once—signal—and veered wide to circle. he trusted the bearsword would understand. flank them. drive them.