The storm ended as suddenly as it had begun. The wind died and the sand settled.
Everyone slowly lowered their arms, coughing and brushing sand off their clothes.
But the peace didn't last.
A deep rumbling growl rolled across the sand.
They all froze, the king, Kaelith and Dorian shifting into their lycan forms on instinct.
Out of the fading dust, a massive tiger stepped into view, its fur was white and orange. It's fangs, long and sharp.
And on its back… sat a man.
He rode the beast as if it were nothing more than a calm horse.
He wore a long scarf around his neck, a sleeveless leather vest, and a leather strap across his chest. A long spear rested across his back.
The tiger stopped a few steps away, its golden eyes locked on the group.
The lycans growled as the huge cat circled them.
"You don't belong here," the man said. "Where have you come from."
Thornak stepped forward, his claws flexing. "We mean no harm. We are just travelers."
