Matilda started awake as she felt someone grasping her shoulder – expecting to have been roughly shaken awake by stablehands, she was surprised when the grasp was gentle but firm.

“Hey,” a voice said gently. Matilda glanced over her shoulder, eyes squinting in the sunlight, to see Castor kneeling beside her. His eyes searched her face as she squinted at him, then made to sit upright in the pile of hay.

Fury rose in her gut as she allowed him to pluck straw from her hair and clothing.

“Hey,” he said again, hands grasping hers as she folded them neatly in her lap. She remained silent, not looking at him. “I'm sorry.”

Matilda stared just past his shoulder, offering nothing in words.

“I guess I ended up feeling so sorry for myself, I didn't realize what all this was doing to you.”

Sorry for himself? Over what? Matilda stole a glance at his face. She could see now, in the daylight, the dark shadows under his eyes and the paleness of his skin from stress.

“I just...” he continued, looking at her hands clasped in his own, “I didn't think it would be good of me to make close friends with someone I knew I'd have to leave eventually, anyway. Carlecroft is just too small to offer what I need in terms of tasks.”

Matilda remained silent, but nodded. Her hands were becoming sweaty and she wanted to pull away from the squire before he noticed, too. But, instead, he grasped her hands more tightly and leaned forward, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath on her skin. He smelled lightly of spirits.

“It's been tough on me, too... you don't know what it feels like to be overdue for titling... and seeing your fellow squires knighted and married off already.”

Matilda continued looking away from him, now eyeing the outline of Disa's hocks. She could feel herself biting back tears, making it difficult to speak. So, he had been thinking of the prospects of marriage... to somebody else, no doubt. She wondered who he had his mind on. There were few girls back home not already married and none of them were of any greater status than she.

Her stomach plummeted as she realized he must have already met someone here. His attitude had changed only after leaving Carlecroft... that must be it.

Matilda took a deep breath, then looked down into their hands in her lap. “And I'm sorry about how I acted last night. I was... immature. Selfish.”

To her surprise, Castor shook his head. “You had every right.”

They stayed that way in silence for just a moment.

“Just... just so you know,” Castor began, softly, “I want things to change, to work out.”

What did that mean?

“I hope that my stint here will help with that. But only time will tell. Right now, I can't think of anything more.”

Matilda nodded once. She glanced up to meet his eyes. All the little lines around his mouth and along his forehead were more pronounced and she found herself studying his face more closely than she'd ever had the opportunity to before.

Castor leaned back, his expression less serious. “I do need to go out and hunt for a bit later. Would you come with me?”

Matilda just nodded, the churning in her stomach making her feel ill. She found herself surprised at his suddenly more relaxed and amiable manner. For a moment she forgot that they were in a strange town and that she had stormed out on him the previous night after nearly confessing her feelings for him.

She nodded, watching the shapes in his hands as he brushed his hair from his eyes as he stood. Matilda watched him as he greeted Balfour and Disa. Some of the familiar feelings in her stomach were slowly creeping back. She didn't know whether she should welcome them or not.

“There,” Nyre sniffed audibly, tail raised.

Denza glanced behind them as Lorza tilted her head.

“What is it?”

“New trees,” Denza replied, trotting past Nyre, “and the pines here are thinner – we're getting toward the edge of the forest.”

Caspar made a small but unmistakably gleeful sound. Lorza bound to catch up with the others, the black pup close on her hocks.

“Just think,” she began, “We get to start out again, safe – make new packs, meet new -”

“Shh,” Denza suddenly hissed. He hadn't even smelled them. He narrowed his eyes, his heart beginning to thump audibly as blood buzzed in his ears. He heard Nyre growl under his breath beside him.

Two large, nearly black wolves barred their path, lips curled slightly to flash sharp canines. The tallest held one of his paws at an awkward angle and stood gingerly upon it. Two, more dark-coated wolves stood behind, tails flicking back and forth, clearly agitated. Their coats were dull, unkempt. Their ears were torn and bloody, as if they'd suffered blows to the head.

The most unnerving part of their appearance was the green liquid that seeped from under their coats, running in thin trails down their sides and legs from large gashes on their backs – just as Caspar had said. Wounds from the curious plants.

Denza eyed the closest wolf's face – small bite and claw marks raked across his muzzle looked normal, but his eyes, once dark and shining, now glinted with a dull, subtle green hue.

He knew that the others recognized the green just as he did – it was the same they had been seeing all through their trek out of the forest and the same that Lorza and Denza had found involved in the destroying of their families.

Lorza stood her ground as the nearest male approached, paws shakily stepping on fallen twigs toward her, limping slightly.

“Give us the pup,” his raspy voice stated.

Lorza shivered, nudging Caspar behind her. “No.”

The tall male halted to consider Lorza for a moment. Cadenza could hear a low growl emitting from Lorza as her ears pressed back. She lowered her head slightly.

The male turned to look behind him at his companions.

“Kill 'em.”