Torak knew something was wrong long before they reached the eastern borders.
The forest had gone extremely quiet in the most wrong way.
The elite warriors moved carefully behind him through the trees. None of them spoke now. Even their wolves had retreated deeper beneath their skin, restless and uneasy.
Moonlight filtered weakly through the branches overhead. Mist clung low across the ground, pale against the dark soil.
Torak slowed abruptly.
Every wolf behind him stopped instantly.
The scent reached him first. The scent was mixed with blood, silver, burned flesh, and chemicals beneath it all.
Torak's jaw tightened immediately.
"What is that smell?" one warrior muttered quietly behind him.
No one answered.
Torak stepped forward slowly through the fog.
The deeper they moved into the eastern territory, the heavier the scent became.
Then finally, one of the warriors froze.
"Moon Goddess…" he uttered in reference.
