The sun had gone down beyond the lush trees when Marro finally dared to move. He had remained tucked under the hollow for hours, frozen in fear and desperation. His small body ached, muscles cramped from stillness, but worse was the heavy silence pressing against his ears, the kind that told him something had gone horribly wrong.
No more voices. No more footsteps. No more searching.
Just… silence.
Slowly, cautiously, he emerged, brushing off dried leaves and dirt. His palms were scraped, and the wrist band he had fought so hard to protect now felt cold and heavy in his pocket. His legs shook as he stood.
He needed to see his almost dead friend but then he needed to go home.
He needed to see them.
Maybe they were hiding too. Maybe they were waiting for him.
The path back to the pack's village was deserted.
Not a single howl echoed in the night air. Only the rustling of wind in the trees and the far-off caw of a bird.
