Untamed
The lingering smell of smoke was still present on his armor. No matter how many rivers he crossed, it would not fade … that sharp metallic hint of ash and blood.
Kyle led his horse through the burnt remnants of what had once been the Northern Ridge Outpost. The ground was a deep blackened mess, scattered with broken arrows, torn banners, and bones. The morning thick cloud mixed with smoke, casting a haunting veil over the landscape.
Behind him, the patrol moved quietly — five wolves in partial shift, their eyes alert and cautious. No one dared to utter his name. No one felt brave enough to inquire about what troubled their Alpha.