That shit…

A lot of shit went down at Wild Rye Fields, as far as Reyes could remember. Wolves come and going like it was a damn freeway. A cat. The incident with Askan’s uncle. The discourse with Risaela and the River scouts. Which one he was referring to, he wasn’t sure – but the alpha didn’t want any of it for Shallow’s Edge. That’s why they left, after all. In the end, the leaders couldn’t do a damn thing to hold the pack together.

Reyes dismissed the memories with a derisive snort and shook his head. “It will be fine, amado. We’ll go in, wait out the rain, and then we can see what’s up – if it’s the prey or if it’s too many strangers or if it was just a weird feeling, okay? But no one is out in the rain.”

He glanced ahead to where Hawthorne was trotting along. Kid would probably like the exercise if they started to do a few extra scouting missions. He spoke up a little louder. “Besides, we’d never hear the end of it if we caught a cold and the princess over there had to look after us.”

He smirked.