Swiftcurrent Creek Its been one week since you looked at me

The dog was brazen with her slower lope—the red girl tearing away when adrenaline seemed to kick in. Akavir slowed, his gaze heated as he stared after them, waiting for them to disappear from view.

His breathing was rapid—the rise and fall of his chest. The mutt had done a good one on Arric, and he felt the fury boiling within—what did these people want from them?

A quick glance to Lestan, his gaze sweeping over the brown wolf to ensure he hadn’t gotten hurt in whatever crossfire had potentially happened in the chaos. He seemed fine.

“Arric is wounded,” he began, his voice rough from the fight.