Through the trees, Adrian found a new angle. The wolf looked frailer, fur dull, flanks sunken. Yet its posture remained iron-strong. Adrian crouched low, listening. For a moment, nothing. Then again—the faintest murmur, like life buried beneath the soil. He pressed his ear closer to the ground.
Before the sound could sharpen, a crack of wood snapped behind him. Adrian spun, heart in his throat. Just a falling branch, crashing into undergrowth. But when he turned back, the wolf was glaring at him with a ferocity so raw he stumbled backward. His intrusion had been noticed.