Loccy followed Hajin through the Winter Gate at a run, a brand new bone bouncing in her pocket.
The shapes poured out of the trees in a ragged line, each one the size of a pony. Orange flame rippled over their coats like wind over a wheat field, leaving black footprints in the snow.
"Seven of them, that's one pack," Juna said, drawing both daggers with a soft shing, "I'll take the left."
"Hans called it right, one toll means hounds," Hajin said, rolling his shoulders, "everybody stay in the open and keep the fight away from the gate."
"May I say hello first?" Loccy asked, already pulling the bone from her pocket.
"Hello to what, Bun?"
"To the big puppy, it looks lonely."
"Keep the bone in your pocket, Bun, it's the good one," Hajin said.
"Thank you again for it, Master, it's the best bone I've ever owned."
"It cost two coppers, please don't cry about it."
