Bearclaw Valley Defiant to the end

The familiar scent of the Nightwalkers was about the last thing he anticipated finding on his patrol, but there it was — blatant, familiar, enraging. Revui had kept himself separate from the bulk of Ursus while they fawned over the newborns of Astara, and as he wasn't equipped for that, he merely upped his patrol frequency. Good thing he did.

Revui did not make a sound as he bore down upon the scent-path, although when the earth evened out he pivoted and launched headlong after the shape he saw sulking between the trees. Auburn-on-cream; a ruddy face, a dark spine. He knew this wolf; they were larger now, but familiar.

The boy from the pit.

His name was white noise in Revui's memory, but he grimaced, and loosed a roar, charging for him. Evien was suddenly there, on the opposite side. It was just like before, with Clay, and this time Revui would not hold back — the medic would be caught in the crossfire too, if he dared to linger.