Snow Luna
His fur took on a sandy-brown color, and though he was leaner than Knox, his stance was quick and ready—his golden eyes alert and focused.
Together, they raced into the forest, paws thudding softly against damp earth and weaving between ancient trees.
Knox led the way, his nose lowered, sniffing. The scent of pine and earth mixed with faint traces of smoke. John followed closely, ears pricked.
They passed the lake—its surface smooth and silvered—until Knox came to a stop at the shoreline.
He sniffed again.
The scent was faint. Faded by time, but still lingering: charred wood, burnt fur, and something more—something... hollow.
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