Athena

The dawn was crisp, the sun barely breaking through the thick mist that settled over Grayhound territory. Birds called softly from the trees, unaware of the tension that still lingered among the pack. The aftermath of the attack had left the pack shaken, but alive, and for that, I was grateful. Yet, gratitude mingled uneasily with anticipation. I knew the rival pack would strike again, this time with more cunning, more force, and perhaps more cruelty.

Beauty and I walked through ...