The last light of dusk slipped through the gap, illuminating Vesha's face first. She was smiling, relieved, even peaceful.
"Welcome back," she said gently, her voice carrying into the quiet shelter.
But the moment she saw him clearly, her smile faltered. Her eyes widened, and the breath caught in her throat.
Adyr stood before them, calm and silent. His hair, tousled by the wind, was streaked with dust and dried blood. Behind him, the massive corpse of a wolf lay motionless.
"Is that...?" The old woman stepped forward, moving past the others. She was old and wise and didn't need an answer. She knew exactly what it was.
An alpha.
She stared at the corpse in silence. For a brief moment, the pressure in her chest eased. If the alpha was dead, then perhaps everything was finally over.
But her relief was short-lived. Her eyes shifted to something else. Something that should have been there but wasn't.
Then came Vesha's voice, sharp and full of alarm.
"Your arm!"
