Ash, a massive adult male werewolf with a broad muzzle and amber eyes and Finn lead the hunting team along the outer boundary, their massive gray-brown forms moving as one. The pack’s den and younger wolves remain safely behind.
Both twins halt. An unfamiliar scent reaches them through pine resin and damp earth, unmistakably wolfkin yet threaded with exhaustion, old smoke, and human fear.
Eno Phmann steps into the open: a slim young-adult wolfkin male with close-fitted gray fur, black-dark ears and muzzle, and a travel-worn dark cloak. His breathing is ragged, and one hand grips a snapped wooden token marked with an unknown pack sign.
Eno Phmann
I know this is inhabited territory. I mean no challenge. Please, grant me shelter long enough to rest.
Finn circles downwind while Ash holds the team in place. Eno lowers his gaze, keeping the broken token visible rather than hiding it among his cloak.
Eno Phmann
My pack sign was broken behind me. I followed the stream because I could not keep running blind.
Ash scents the ground beyond Eno’s boots. Fresh human tracks enter the trees behind him, several sets deep in the mud, leading directly toward the boundary.