Time ticks like water in a still cave. After a turn of events out of their control, the renegades have scattered with a promise to reunite in a year and a season. They are not the only ones who have disappeared from the South Forest. While hope blos...
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Wing led the way to a different part of the forest than Neptune and her patrol would cover. They crossed several hundred tail-lengths without sight, sound or smell—any kind of smell—of a living thing. Wing tripped in a rut and cursed to a halt. Not even a bird twittered.
"Is this place normally this empty?" he asked.
"No," said Sethral. "There's usually at least birds." She nudged Wing aside to inspect the rut. It was as long as she was and half a paw-length deep, tapered at either end. It looked like something had taken a swing at the forest floor.
"What creatures come by this area?" said Wing with a nod to it.
"Whitewings walk here when it's warmer out at night. Hyenars, rarely Drakons, sometimes travelling Lowland creatures, and anyone Winter might have sent out here. Basically, it's too old to tell."
The absence of tracks, birds and prey-animals grew only more pronounced as the day wore on. By early afternoon they had found only one trail, that of an injured Hyenar seeking shelter in the forest. Its smell was rank and obvious after so long without other tracks. Wing grimaced and moved on.
Sethral finally stopped beneath a tree that looked, smelled and felt exactly like every other tree in the forest. "We're not going to get anywhere at this rate."
"What do you suggest, then?" said Wing. He lay down and licked his paws, which were raw from tripping on the damp ground.
"Hey Dusky boy. You sneak, yeah?"
Dusk had settled on the ground not far from Wing. He gave her a look and said nothing.
"I want you to lead for a bit," said Sethral.
Dusk looked at Wing in an obvious deferral of authority.
The mutt sighed and got up before Sethral could snarl. "I agree with that, actually. Just for a little while, Dusk, if that's okay. I think we need a new perspective."
Dusk got up and walked away. Almost immediately, Sethral noticed the difference. Dusk, like she had observed before, did not steer clear of shadows like she and Wing did. Instead he sought them out, taking the darkest and chilliest paths available. In a hundred heartbeats, they were in darker forest than they had been before.
Now they walked in silence. The forest floor grew damper, then genuinely wet. Cold-shrivelled fungi began to appear behind fallen branches and in the crooks of tree roots. Then just like that, there was a trail. Straight and narrow, it ran unflinchingly under their paws and away into the gloom. Dusk glanced at Wing.
