Fenrir ran back to where he had last seen her, paws striking the forest floor with controlled power. Every snapped twig, every crushed leaf told a story, and he followed it instinctively. He remembered how fast she had been—how impossibly swift she moved even without her wolf. Talon knew Fenrir was faster, stronger, born for the hunt… but their mate had something else entirely.
She had the forest.
This land knew her as intimately as it knew the wind. She had been born beneath these trees, learned to walk on this soil, trained among these shadows. Every creek bend, every fallen log, every hidden rise and dip in the terrain belonged to her memory. She didn’t just run through the forest—she breathed with it. And that made her dangerous in ways brute strength could never match.
Fenrir slowe
