Ragnar
The patrol units have been scouring the pack's territory in relentless circles for the past two days, practically turning the entire forest upside down. They've searched every trail, every shadowed corner, and every half-buried crevice—desperate to find a clue, any sign that could explain how another ghoul managed to slip through our defenses unnoticed.
But nothing. Not a trace.
The mystery of its appearance gnaws at me. A heavy thought presses down on my chest as I come to a stop in the dense heart of the forest, near the place where Layleen was attacked.
The way that thing moved... it wasn't normal. It drifted like a shadow—like a wraith caught between worlds. Even as it crept up on her, I could tell its form was wrong. Incomplete. As if it hadn't fully emerged from the darkness it was born in. Like it hadn't finished taking shape.
And then there's the way it died. That, too, felt... off.
