Black Fang did not mourn quietly.
By the time the sun dipped behind the western canopy, the entire settlement had gathered near the eastern gate, where the bodies of the slain guards and wolves had been brought back from the quarry. Torches burned along the walls despite the remaining daylight, and smoke from the funeral pits drifted over the settlement in heavy gray ribbons. The warriors stood in tight groups, their faces hard with anger and shame, while the farmers and craftsmen watched from behind them with the stunned unease of people who had seen the world change too quickly.
Gorthak stood in the center of the gathering, silent and unmoving.
The bodies lay before him.
