Rory's condition had been improving steadily.
Even after everything the night before, she woke up around noon the next day—well-rested and full of energy.
She didn't miss the bonfire feast the Wolf King had prepared for them that evening.
During the day, the wolf clan had already cleared all the snow from the central square.
By the time night fell, bonfires were lit one after another, their flames rising high against the dark sky.
Beside each fire lay whole, marinated mutant beasts, prepared in advance. Once the feast began, they would be hoisted over the flames and roasted slowly.
Today's marinade had been taught to them by Nix.
The rich, mouthwatering aroma drifted through the air, slipping straight into the noses of every beastfolk present.
Clusters of wolf cubs had gathered early around the prepared meat.
They stared at the mountain-like carcasses, tails wagging wildly, drool practically spilling as they sniffed and swallowed.
