He listened; the sound of celebration was no more, and the new sound was sharper, threaded with fear—a cold knot formed in his stomach.
"The raiders are here again?" Talywn said, his tone revealing his fear.
The Raiders were thieves and scavengers, wolf-kind who lived in forgotten lands. They would attack small packs, steal their food, treasures, tools, and sometimes livestock. They were destructive.
Ever since Lycanthria signed the protection deal with some neighboring packs, the Raiders had stopped coming.
Faelan moved to the window to check, but the night air that hit him was wrong. It didn't just carry smoke but had a sickly smell of decay and rot. This was not the scent of the raiders he knew.
"These are not raiders," He said to Talywn.
Talywn didn't waste time asking questions. As Faelan rushed out of the study, he followed immediately. Faelan's senses sharpened as he stepped into the hallway. When he reached the door and stepped outside, the smell hit him harder.
