Kaelen snapped his head up, his midnight fur bristling as a low, territorial snarl ripped from his chest. His golden eyes flared in the gloom, his ears pricking forward as a deep, low-frequency vibration began to hum through the solid basalt floor of the fissure.
"Gwen," Lucien whispered, his body freezing beneath her hands, his single grey orbit wide with an immediate, absolute terror as the purple static lines of his neural network began to twitch violently in the dark. "The field... the field has just been bypassed. The balance is gone."
Gwen sat up in the center of the pelts, her chest heaving, her silver-charcoal hair falling wild over her bare shoulders as her golden eyes scanned the darkness of the tent.
