The pasture was quiet, but not peaceful.
Mist clung low to the grass like it didn't want to leave. The trees pressed in on the far edge, their trunks thin and colorless in the morning gloom, branches curling like reaching fingers. Even the air felt uneasy—cold without bite, still without calm.
Aiden walked a step behind Kael, hoodie pulled tighter, hands stuffed in the pocket. Bones padded beside him in pup form, tongue flicking out occasionally to taste the air. They hadn't spoken much since leaving the village.
It wasn't tense. Just… focused.
Then they saw him.
A boy, maybe fifteen, was crouched on a split beam of fence, knees hugged to his chest. His head tilted slightly, eyes locked on something wriggling on his shoulder. A twitchy creature with green fur, too-long toes, and feathered ears was crawling up his arm, chirping in short, panicked bursts.
Farren barked something at it—part scold, part laugh.
Aiden's instinct kicked in hard.
"HEY!" he shouted, breaking into a jog. "GET OFF HIM!"
The creature froze, then launched itself into the tall grass like a rubber band snapping free. Gone.
Farren stood up sharply. "What the hell?!"
Aiden skidded to a stop, cheeks flushed. "I—I thought it was attacking you! You were yelling—"
"I was talking to it!" Farren snapped, fists clenched. "That was my Miresit!"
Kael caught up at a slower pace, utterly calm. "Forest scavenger," he said. "Harmless. Eats mushrooms. Avoids predators."
Aiden glanced at him. "Yeah, well, it looked like it was about to eat him."
Farren crossed his arms. "Took me two weeks to get it to stop bolting. It was this close to eating from my hand."
"Sorry," Aiden said, sheepish. "It looked like something out of a fever dream, okay? Long toes, twitchy face—"
"It is twitchy," Kael added helpfully.
"Not helping."
Farren let out a long sigh and stepped down from the beam. "Whatever. Bren said you'd show up."
"We're here to help," Kael said.
Farren looked them up and down. "Then try not to scare anything else off."
He turned on his heel and waved them toward a thin game trail leading into the underbrush. They followed without another word.
The trees swallowed them quickly. These weren't tall forest pines—they were thinner, lower, with dense crisscrossing branches and tightly packed roots. Every step felt muffled. Every rustle behind them sounded too far, too soft.
"So," Kael asked as they walked, "how many gone?"
"Five. Maybe six," Farren replied, voice low. "Started with goats. Then an old ox. Two nights ago, one of the smaller ewes."
"Any signs?"
"No tracks. No prints. No blood."
They stepped over a moss-covered log. Farren's boots didn't crunch once.
"Do you keep them penned?"
Farren nodded. The fence is reinforced now. Doesn't matter. They disappear anyway."
Aiden glanced at him. "You tried watching them overnight?"
Farren didn't answer right away. He kicked a stone off the edge of the path with the side of his boot, watching it tumble through the underbrush.
"Yeah," he said finally. "I stayed up the whole night. Twice."
He pushed aside a low branch and ducked under it without looking back.
"First time, I just sat out with a lantern. Kept the pen in full view. Didn't take my eyes off it. Told myself if something showed up, I'd see it coming."
Kael moved beside him, silent as usual. Aiden kept pace a step behind.
Farren's voice was steady, but lower now, tight, like he was trying not to sound unsure.
"Second time, I didn't even blink. I made myself count seconds. Breathed on a pattern. Watched the sheep's ears twitch every time it shifted."
He stopped suddenly, turning to look at them.
"And still, at some point… it was just gone. No noise. No rustle. No drag. Just gone. Like I was dreaming about them being there, and finally woke up."
Aiden didn't respond right away.
Neither did Kael.
The path opened slightly as they stepped into a clearing ringed with sagging wooden posts. The fence line had collapsed in one corner. The grass was pressed down inside the pen, like something large had moved through it.
Kael stepped into the ring of flattened earth, crouched, and ran a hand through the grass. No blood. No disturbed soil. Just empty space and soft impressions.
Aiden glanced over at Farren again. "What do you think it is?"
Farren shook his head. "I don't know. There's no trail. No sound. I checked the whole fence twice. Nothing's broken. It's like something pulled the animal out from the middle without ever touching the sides."
He reached into his coat and pulled something small from the inside pocket—a tuft of wool, tangled and slightly torn.
"This is all I found. Left near where she'd been sleeping."
Aiden crouched to take it. The wool was cold, faintly damp, like it had been held onto longer than it should've been.
He turned to Bones, who had been sitting quietly up until now, ears forward, tail still, like something was holding his attention just beyond what anyone else could see.
Aiden held out the wool. "Hey, Bones. Could you help us find her?"
The Gravehound leaned forward slowly, sniffed once, then again, more deeply.
His ears went stiff.
Then, without warning, he surged to his feet and took off into the trees, full sprint.
"Bones!" Aiden shouted, already moving.
Farren swore under his breath. "Is that dog tracking something?!"
Kael had already started running.
"He's not a dog," Aiden called out. "He's—uh—complicated!"
Farren didn't ask. He just chased.
Branches whipped past them as they plunged into the brush, ducking roots and pushing through low-hanging limbs. The trees were closer here, the air heavier. The mist hadn't burned off fully, and the ground dipped hard in places where old rain had torn up the forest floor.
And then—crack.
A burst of sound just ahead, like something larger tearing through a cluster of dry branches.
Aiden skidded down a slope and saw dark fur flashing between trees.
Bones had shifted.
His small form lengthened, stretching mid-sprint, shoulders widening, and armor-like ridges breaking through his skin like blackened stone. Smoke curled from his maw as his gait deepened into a full, thunderous gallop.
"Okay," Farren shouted from behind, "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"
Aiden pushed harder to keep up. "He's just bigger now! He does that!"
"Animals don't DO THAT!"
"Yeah, well, he does!"
Kael was still ahead of both of them, moving like he wasn't even trying.
They broke through the last line of brush into another clearing—this one more sunlit, surrounded by trees so closely packed they formed a natural wall. Bones was already there, pacing in slow circles, sniffing the earth.
No sound.
No prey.
Just flattened grass, pressed into a spiral.
Kael slowed, sword still sheathed but eyes narrowed.
Farren doubled over next to Aiden, breathing hard. "Okay. So. Your… whatever that is… turns into a bear-sized murder wolf when he's tracking things down?"
"Something like that," Aiden said, chest heaving. "Don't worry. He's on our side."
Farren stared at Bones, who now looked almost regal, standing still with his ears high and body tense.
"If that thing's on our side," Farren muttered, "I feel sorry for whatever has been taking our animals."