New Blood
I say, heading down.
Inside, Lenny’s waiting. He’s in his 50s, used to have a wife and child. Lost them both. Became a rogue. Then tried to join a pack—the one just over from us. Small, too much land, not enough fighters. I caught him once, heard his story, let him go. Now he’s my double agent.
“Little Luna! Good to see you,” he grins.
“You too, Lenny. What’s up?”
“I had a meeting with the spies tonight.”
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