The woods were quiet, too quiet. It was like everything was watching them. Rowan's lungs burned as his paws hit the underbrush with soft thuds, branches whipped his snort and fur, sharp branches dragged along his fur bruising him and clinging to his fur. None of that mattered, he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Not when he was this close. Not when everything depended on it.
The wolf running just a few paces behind him was leaner, younger and a little smaller. Rowan glanced back to see if he was keeping up with him. Normally he would not care but today, he did. Marcus had saved his hide, both literally and figuratively.
They ran up a small hill where the trees grew more sparsely, and the younger wolf shifted mid-run, stumbling into two legs and gasping as he spoke.
