Shadows lengthened across the hastily established camp as the last bloodred rays of sunlight retreated behind the treeline. Soren sat on a fallen log, watching nobles bicker like children over matters that wouldn't have concerned street rats in Nordhav.
"This position is entirely exposed!" Lord Lanther's voice carried across the clearing, his silver-and-white surcoat now stained with travel dust. "We should have continued to the ridge for defensible high ground."
Lord Casimir Trescan gestured dismissively, rings glinting on his fingers. "And arrived well after dark? Perhaps you'd prefer stumbling off a cliff to making camp, Lanther."
The shard against Soren's chest cooled as Valenna's presence sharpened in his mind. 'Like dogs fighting over scraps while wolves circle,' she whispered. 'None of them understand what hunts them.'
