They extinguished the fire quickly, kicking dirt over the embers. Kaya grabbed the leftover fish and stuffed them into the cloth with the berries. Cutie scattered the evidence of their meal.
Within thirty seconds, their campsite looked undisturbed.
They retreated to the shelter under the fallen log, squeezing inside, watching the approach.
The footsteps grew louder. Closer.
Then a figure burst through the undergrowth and stopped at the edge of the creek, breathing hard.
A wolf beastman. Young, maybe twenty, with dark fur and amber eyes.
And he was injured, blood streaming from a gash across his ribs.
He looked around frantically, clearly searching for something—or someone.
Then his eyes landed on their shelter.
On them.
"Please," he gasped. "Please, you have to help me. They're coming. They're right behind me. They'll kill us all."
Kaya's hand tightened on her knife.
'Damn it.'
Of course it couldn't be simple.
Of course there had to be another complication.
