Twenty-six – 06

“I’m still trying to figure out how you know exactly where that howl came from,” Matt said, squinting against the late morning sun. “Every other time we’ve gone toe to toe with anything like that, they’ve come from the ravines.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Thordin growled, eyes narrowing as his gaze scythed across the hillocks of snow and brush. The remains of M-45 stretched toward the river, where the roadway ended abruptly, raggedly. “It came from this direction. Maybe they’re coming down from the north instead of west.”

“Maybe,” Matt muttered, hunching in his jacket and shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “What do you think it was?”

“A wolf.”

“It sure sounded like one. You think it’s more than just a wolf?”

Thordin sighed, watching his breath steam in the air. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say, really. We’ll know once we find the trail.” Easier said than done right now. Either this is a damned smart wolf, or we’re dealing with more than the standard wolf. That boded ill, but they’d only heard one. One meant they were dealing with a scout or a loner, probably not another slew of hamrammr or worse.

We’ll have to hope anyway. I’m not too keen on going up against them again this soon. Hoping we sent them packing when we bloodied them south of here before Phelan got ripped into by the Dirae.

A flicker of movement caught his eye and he twisted, battleaxe coming to hand easily. He scanned a line of bushes dotted with trees every few feet, more decorative than functional.

“What is it?” Matt asked.

“Shh.” Thordin prowled forward a few steps, listening. He could hear the breathing of the man at his side and the sound of the wind. He strained his ears, eyes fastened on the bushes.

Come on. Move, you bugger.

There it was. A rustle of branches, a flash of gold.

“There,” Thordin whispered. “It’s right there.”

His weapon in hand and expression grim, Thordin marched forward, Matt trailing just a step behind.

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