The north smells different.
Colder.
Thinner.
Like the world here has already exhaled and forgotten to breathe back in.
Kade stands at the edge of a human settlement just beyond the river borderlands, hood pulled low, hands tucked into worn leather gloves that hide the faint scars still tracing his palms. The Covenant's new edicts are nailed to wooden posts at every road, thick parchment stamped with sigils of "order" and "stability."
Movement restricted.
Pack gatherings prohibited.
Unregistered wolves subject to detainment.
The language is polished.
The intent is not.
Behind him, a barn door creaks softly. A man in his late forties steps out, wiping his hands on a rag. Human. Greying beard. Nervous eyes.
"They came through two nights ago," the man mutters without greeting. "Didn't knock. Didn't need to."
Kade's jaw tightens. "How many?"
"Six. Maybe more watching from the tree line." The man's voice drops. "They weren't just wolves."
"Coven," Kade says quietly.
