Cobalt stared down from the craggy ridge. Below him, the tops of the taller pine trees swayed gently in the breeze.
A thick mist hid any signs of activity on the valley floor. The acrid scent of smoke told a different story. The hair down the wolf’s spine bristled.
His acute hearing started to pick up the chatter and sounds of men moving about. The lack of any indications of women and children was ominous.
Merak and the rest of the pack were in the black woods. They wouldn’t be aware of the men making a camp downwind in the valley.
The night was setting in and the men wouldn’t be moving anywhere before dawn, Cobalt turned and bounded away. He had a long run ahead and wanted to reach the pack as quickly as he could. There was no telling how long it would take to make Merak understand that men were coming.