Swiftcurrent Creek Its been one week since you looked at me

The beast was lumbering and foolish—tearing through brush and trees like a freight train, and he was quick on her heels, eyes fast upon the festering wound he had inflicted on her in retribution to what she had tried to do to Arric.

He wasn’t letting the mutt from his sight.

So when she came thundering toward the area their little redhead guest was, she was met with the shout of Lestan. Akavir, shadowed, angry, pulled up closer to his relation, a snarl on his lips that didn’t form to sound. “This one here tried to tear Arric apart.”

His eyes then sought Indra, who had to move slowly to even move toward the dog, so injured she was. “Resting time is over. Off you go,” he jeered, knowing full well that either were likely too sick or injured to come from this in their prime near the very end.

He was far from caring, now. He should have let the girl hobble off with the silver wolf on the day of the attack.