The last traces of the desert and its sands had fallen behind Sonder days ago.
Now the land was green again: first with shrubs and scattered trees, then thicker woods and moss-covered stones, leaves and grass covering each step she took.
Sonder had no choice but to walk on them- something she did not entirely like.
If there had been a path of dirt or stone, something she felt would be less insulted by her footsteps, she would have taken it instead.
It should have been comforting, but it wasn't. Nothing had seemed to comfort her lately.
The light of the late afternoon filtered through the leaves above and shone on her.
The birds sang, and a warm breeze drifted past.
Though she couldn't see them, shapes moved between the trees.
Even so, Sonder's hand rested near her sword, as if her subconscious already anticipated a coming conflict.
The sword, or rather, her heart pulsed with an aggressive urge.
Then the first attacker burst from the bushes in a blur - a man-wolf with mottled gray fur, lunging for her throat with claws and fangs.
Sonder sidestepped, not gracefully, but efficiently, her movements sharp and precise.
Another came from behind, broad-shouldered with tawny fur, a hyena, not a wolf.
He swung a wooden club. Sonder raised her forearm and caught the strike. There was a crack when it met her arm.
She didn't flinch.
She stepped in close and put her hand by the hyena's chest and blasted him with a simple bolt of mana.
The hit was not elegant, but it was effective. Air burst from his lungs, and he stumbled back, coughing and wheezing.
A third rushed her, smaller; a fox.
Claws scraped her arm as he darted past.
Sonder turned rigidly but fast, almost like a puppet, and seized his tail.
She yanked him off his feet and threw him into a tree.
It all happened so quickly that she barely realized what she had done.
When the first wolf-man recovered, he snarled and lunged for her again, teeth bared.
Sonder drew in a breath and blinked several times, coming to the realization that she was in a fight.
"Wait!" she yelled. "Why are you attacking me?"
"You will hand it over," the wolf said, stopping his advance.
Her grip on her sword tightened. "Hand what over?"
"The thing you carry," he growled. "The piece, the dark stone. Do not pretend you do not know."
"You mean the shard?"
"So you do know," he said. "And you still carry it. Do you plan on hurting your own kind, as he did to his?"
Sonder frowned. "I carry it because I must, not to cause harm."
"That same dark stink clings to you, just like it did to him."
"Him?" she asked. "Who are you talking about?"
"You know it! You reek the same as he did." He pointed a clawed finger. "You carry his scent. You're in league with him."
"I am not 'in league' with anyone," she said firmly. "I don't even know who you mean."
"Maybe she's right," another voice said. A taller figure stepped from the treeline. Dark fur, long ears.
The wolf-man fell back at their presence, as if they held status.
"If you are not with him," they said, "then why do you carry the shard at all?"