Rind.

It was almost too easy. The snowy ground pounded beneath Adotre's feet as he ran, full-speed, across the mounds and towards the tree line, carefully and thoroughly ignoring the voices howling his name behind him. He glanced back once, over his shoulder to see the rest of the pack giving chase, 5 black dots scattered on the snow of the horizon. They were close enough that if he stopped now, they would catch him. But they were also far enough that if he kept going, he could make it to the tree line and away.

Running was hard, burdened down as Adotre was with flat pallets of food and sacks to carry hunting spoils in. But he was still a Layer, and he was still faster than them. The tree line approached, bobbing up and down in front of his eyes, veering closer. The sound of Iorir howling, desperately, carried out across the tundra, and Adotre felt a brief pang of guilt and Semel-ness strike him. He ignored it, aimed himself between two large pine trunks, and disappeared into the greenwood.

+++++

Gustin was hot. Too hot. His skin was flushed, now, all the time, and Kuskellanar suspected fever. It was a frightening word, out here in the heart of the Dack Forest, where light could barely penetrate and no healers came to help.
Kellan had spent the morning bringing water back from the river; cold, icy water that Gustin whined at because it froze his overheated skin.

Their trader transport watched them impassively; disappearing for minutes at a time when a new customer arrived, then reappearing at the door of their round tent shortly afterwards, his arms crossed over his chest, watching over Gustin. Kellan passed by him as he went outside for more water. When they brushed shoulders, the trader turned and followed him. Outside, he stopped Kellan with one hand on his arm.
"Mate's sick."
Kellan nodded.
"I know."
"Needs a healer."
Kellan's throat thickened and he wanted to growl.
"I know, wolfe."
The trader looked into Kellan's eyes for a moment, and in another wolfe, this would have been a challenge, but to Kellan, it seemed something less. It seemed as if the trader were searching him; for what, Kellan did not know, and he briefly wondered if the wolfe knew what Gustin was. But how could he know? The trader looked away, breaking their contact.
"IceWind comes soon." The trader said this, then spit the remnants of some concotion he'd been chewing off to the side. A chill came over Kellan, but he ignored it. "Healer'll be with them." Kellan nodded, as if a great thing had been settled, but in reality, they were far from it. Gustin could not be taken to the healer without being revealed; were he to be revealed, Kellan's possession of him might be challenged. Suddenly, on the wind, he caught again the scent of the one who had betrayed him. Ideste.

+++++

It didn't take much travel for Adotre to find the scent of the forest's new arrival; he picked it up about six miles into the trees. Slowing his pace to a trot, Adotre wound his way between the low branches and tall rocks that characterized this part of the forest.
The wolfe had been through this way recently; the path, though crudely hidden, was clearly trodden down and there were bent branches here and there. Adotre slipped between them easily. The wolfe must be large, then; larger than Iorir. Adotre felt another pang of guilt when he thought of his mate, who by now must be sick with worry. He wondered how far Iorir would have followed him; into the greenwood, certainly, but beyond that? Layers learned early how to disappear into the forest; Adotre would not be found again until he was ready to be found.

The Layer shifted to rearrange some of his pallets, tying ropes tighter that had loosened during his journey. When settled, he shifted back, stretched his back, and put his nose to the ground. If he paid attention, he might find the new wolfe before nightfall.