Chapter 40 : The Hunter in the Mist

Chapter 40: Chapter 40 : The Hunter in the Mist

Morning arrived quietly over the Blackfang settlement, but there was something unnatural about the silence.

After the violent tremors beneath the western mountains, everyone had expected another disturbance before sunrise.

Instead, the night had passed without another collapse, another roar, or even the distant sound of the enormous creature that had emerged from the ruined mountain.

The pale morning light slowly spread across the valley, touching the snow-covered rooftops and frozen trees with a cold silver glow.

Ash stood near the entrance of the main den, watching the settlement awaken.

The adults were already repairing damaged shelters, reinforcing the wooden barriers around the settlement, and checking the food stores.

The younger cubs were being kept close to their families, while the hunters moved through the settlement with a seriousness that had become almost routine during the past few weeks.

Yet something about that morning felt different.

It was not the feeling of an approaching storm.

It was the feeling that someone was watching them.

Ash lifted his head and looked toward the western forest. The trees stood motionless beneath the pale sky, their branches covered in frost. Nothing moved between them, but the uneasy sensation remained.

He had learned during the crisis that silence could be more dangerous than noise.

Before he could investigate, Rowan returned from the northern side of the settlement with four hunters following behind him. Their expressions were unusually tense, and two of them were supporting a third wolf between their shoulders.

Elder Mira immediately stepped forward.

"What happened?"

Rowan did not answer immediately. He looked toward the surrounding wolves before speaking in a low voice.

"We found the western sentry post destroyed."

The settlement gradually fell silent.

Ash’s ears lifted.

The western sentry post was one of the newer defensive positions built after the pack had settled in the valley. It overlooked the forest and was usually guarded by three hunters at night.

Rowan continued, explaining that the three sentries had been discovered unconscious near the edge of the forest. They were alive, but their breathing was weak and their bodies showed several bruises and shallow cuts.

The injuries were strange.

None of them were severe enough to explain why the three experienced hunters had been unable to defend themselves.

More importantly, nothing had been taken.

Their food remained untouched.

Their hunting knives were still beside them.

Even the small supply pouch hanging from one hunter’s belt had not been disturbed.

Mira crouched beside the wounded wolves and examined them carefully.

"They were attacked from several directions," she finally said.

Rowan’s expression hardened.

"You think there was more than one?"

"I think whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing."

The words spread uneasily through the nearby wolves.

Ash moved closer, studying the injured hunters. Their bodies carried no signs of an ordinary predator attack. There were no deep bite wounds, no torn flesh, and no attempt to drag them away.

Someone had entered the forest, confronted three trained sentries, defeated them, and left them alive.

That made the situation far more disturbing.

A few moments later, another patrol arrived from the western side.

One of the hunters was carrying a broken piece of bark.

"There is something you need to see."

The hunter placed the bark before Elder Mira.

Carved deeply into its surface was a strange symbol.

A dark claw surrounded a narrow red eye.

The carving was precise enough that Ash immediately understood it had not been made by an animal scratching against the tree. Whoever created it had deliberately shaped every line.

Mira stared at it for several seconds.

"I have never seen this symbol in our records."

Rowan studied the mark.

"Could it belong to the Guardian?"

"No."

Mira’s answer came immediately.

"The Guardian does not leave messages."

Ash felt a chill move through him.

He remembered the warning from the ancient ruins.

The Guardian protected something beneath the mountain.

But whatever had attacked the sentries was different.

This creature had left a symbol.

It wanted someone to find it.

Rowan turned toward the hunters.

"Double the patrols. Nobody leaves the settlement alone. From now on, every hunting group travels with at least four wolves, and no one enters the western forest without informing me."

The hunters nodded.

Ash continued staring at the symbol.

Something about it bothered him.

He had seen it before.

Not the exact carving, but the same shape.

His thoughts immediately returned to the ancient ruins beneath the snow, where the black stone had reacted to Aren’s broken pendant.

The red eye did not belong there.

At least, he had never seen it among the ancient carvings.

But something inside him told him that the symbol was connected to the same history.

And that realization frightened him more than the attack itself.

By midday, the settlement had become heavily guarded.

Hunters watched the surrounding trees from elevated platforms while older wolves inspected the damaged sentry post. The three wounded sentries remained unconscious inside the main healing den, watched by Mira and two experienced healers.

Ash wanted to visit them, but Rowan stopped him.

"You are not going into the western forest."

Ash looked up at him.

"I wasn’t going alone."

Rowan narrowed his eyes.

"That wasn’t what I said."

Aren stepped quietly from behind Ash.

The young Silver Lynx had been unusually silent since morning. His golden eyes remained fixed on the western trees.

Rowan noticed him.

"You’ve seen that symbol before, haven’t you?"

Aren did not answer immediately.

Instead, he looked toward the carved tree.

His expression changed.

Ash noticed it at once.

Aren slowly shook his head.

"Not the symbol," he said through the limited words he had learned from the Blackfangs. "But the feeling."

Rowan frowned.

"What feeling?"

Aren’s ears lowered.

"Danger."

Ash looked at him.

That single word carried more weight than a long explanation.

Aren had lived alone in the wilderness long enough to understand things that the Blackfangs sometimes overlooked. He could read changes in scent, silence, movement, and territory. If something had frightened him, Ash knew they could not treat the situation as an ordinary predator attack.

Several hours later, another patrol returned.

This time, they had found something much worse.

Three dead deer had been discovered deep inside the western forest.

Their bodies were completely intact.

No flesh had been eaten.

No organs had been removed.

Their necks each carried a tiny, deliberate wound.

Ash immediately remembered the unconscious sentries.

Someone was repeating the same pattern.

He looked at Rowan.

"It is practicing."

The older wolf stared at him.

"What?"

Ash carefully approached one of the carcasses.

"Nothing was taken. Not even enough to feed a small predator. The wound is too precise."

Aren crouched beside the carcass and smelled the snow.

His ears suddenly moved backward.

"What is it?" Ash asked.

Aren looked into the trees.

"Not animal."

The words made Rowan’s expression become serious.

Before anyone could ask another question, one of the hunters shouted from farther inside the forest.

"We found someone!"

The entire group rushed toward the voice.

A Blackfang hunter lay beneath a fallen tree several dozen meters away from the carcasses. His body was covered with snow, and his breathing was so faint that Ash almost thought he was dead.

Rowan immediately rushed forward.

"Get him back to the settlement!"

The hunter’s eyes opened weakly.

His pupils were unfocused.

He looked terrified.

Rowan leaned closer.

"Who attacked you?"

The wounded wolf struggled to breathe.

His lips moved, but no sound came out.

Ash moved closer.

The hunter’s eyes suddenly focused on him.

For a moment, the fear in his expression became even stronger.

"It spoke..."

Everyone froze.

Rowan lowered his head.

"What spoke?"

The hunter swallowed painfully.

"It wasn’t... an animal."

His trembling paw slowly lifted toward the forest.

"It asked..."

He coughed.

Rowan leaned closer.

"What did it ask?"

The hunter’s voice was barely audible.

"It asked where..."

His breathing became uneven.

"...where the Blackfang Alpha was."

Silence descended over the forest.

Ash felt as though the ground beneath him had suddenly disappeared.

The old Alpha.

The father of the pack’s surviving future.

The wolf who had sacrificed himself during the First Great Crisis.

The wolf whose final howl still lived inside Ash’s memory.

Someone was asking about him.

Someone knew he had not simply vanished.

Rowan’s face hardened.

"How could it know about the Alpha?"

Nobody answered.

Mira, who had followed the group into the forest, stared into the darkness between the trees.

Her expression was no longer merely concerned.

She looked afraid.

And Ash had never seen Elder Mira afraid before.

The wind moved through the branches.

For a brief moment, Ash thought he heard something in the distance.

Not a roar.

Not a howl.

A soft, deliberate sound.

Almost like someone laughing.

He turned toward the forest.

Nothing was there.

But between the trees, the snow appeared disturbed.

Something had been standing there.

Watching them.

And whoever it was had already left.

To be continued...

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