Third Person's POV
At the inn that night, Cedric wrote down why he was wary of Lance—tall and fierce werewolves like him would whip people, kick them, lift them like chicks, then throw them into a tub and hold their heads under water until they couldn't breathe, before pulling them out.
Adelaide read every word, gaining a clearer picture of what Cedric had endured. Her heart ached.
After Cedric fell asleep, she showed the note to Lance.
Lance felt a mix of emotions.
Did he resemble those who hurt Cedric?
Perhaps. Years on the battlefield had inevitably hardened him.
"In the battlefield..." Lance's cedar pheromones suddenly carried a sulfurous tang, and the hardened scales under his shoulder plates grew sharp with guilt.
Adelaide's wolf howled mournfully in her mind, recalling how h
