C21 Together

The courtyard was painted the color of old wounds as dawn crept in on bruised light. Wound, tired, alert, the pack moved as one animal with a new limp. Some men bandaged their flanks and claws, while others inspected the gates. Nobody stayed to accuse one another. Their words had been stolen by the night.

Thorn didn't get any rest. As though the patrols were his lifeblood