I pressed on, leaping branch to branch, slowing as the trees began to thin.
Another crash shook the canopy ahead, the deep groan of colossal timber breaking reverberating through the area. Leaves fluttered like rain in the air. I crouched low on the branch, grip tightening around it as I crept forward bit by bit, until I had a vantage point.
A clearing.
But this was no natural clearing. It had been carved open---trees split at their bases, roots torn free, soil overturned in jagged trenches.
And in the middle, shadows writhed in the lands now lit by the midday sun.
Four Shadestalkers.
The three I'd seen earlier stood side by side, shoulders low, fur bristling with living shadow. Across from them, alone, the fourth crouched low, chest heaving, blood dripping thick from a torn flank.
The mother.
Recognition struck cold and immediate. The one who'd stolen the meat, who'd looked at me with those analytical golden eyes, now only filled with fury and pain.
Now she was here. Alone.
