Blood Hounds

Kael awoke to the sensation of being watched.

The forest was still, the morning mist curling around the trees like ghostly fingers. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in golden streaks, bathing the glade in an eerie glow. Slowly, he turned his head—and met the piercing gaze of Fenrir.

The wolf's golden eyes locked onto his with unnerving intensity. There was intelligence in those depths, something beyond mere instinct. Kael felt as though the beast was studying him, weighing his presence, judging his soul.

"Still here, huh?" Kael muttered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He had expected the wolf to disappear during the night, retreating into the wild where it belonged. Instead, Fenrir remained, his wounds bound, his breathing stronger than before.

Kael pushed himself up, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles. The fire he had built the previous night had long since burned out, leaving only smoldering embers. He reached for his waterskin and took a deep swig, then tossed a piece of dried meat toward the wolf.

Fenrir didn't move.

Kael frowned. "Not hungry?"

The wolf's ears flicked forward, then back, as if considering the offer. Then, with deliberate slowness, he lowered his head and sniffed the food before taking it between his teeth. He chewed carefully, never breaking eye contact.

Kael smirked. "You don't trust me, do you?"

Fenrir's tail flicked once, a movement so slight it could have been imagined. Kael took that as progress.

As he gathered his belongings, Kael pondered his next move. He had no destination, no purpose beyond escaping his past. But something about Fenrir's unwavering gaze unsettled him—no, not just unsettled. It anchored him.

A breeze rustled the leaves, and in that moment, Kael felt a strange pull in his chest. A whisper of a voice, faint but clear.

We are bound.

His breath hitched. He glanced at Fenrir, whose golden eyes reflected the same realization.

Kael had set out alone, but now he understood—he was no longer a wanderer.

He was a man with a purpose.

And Fenrir, the wolf with knowing eyes, was his guide into the unknown.