Timber crouched at the peak of a huge boulder scanning the pine forest that wove into the hills. She raised her muzzle to the air and sniffed the cool mist of an oncoming storm, though it was not the weather she was smelling for, but the scent of one that did not belong to ARO or SMO. Someone had been tracking them since leaving the tower five nights back.

The wolf turned to watch Quinn struggle to stay on his feet. She shook her head in pity as the harekin stumbled and tripped over logs and ditches. Finally the loose gravel twisted his ankle and he fell with a hard thud.

“Get him up! Quickly,” snapped a frustrated Elucard.

“He needs rest, Elucard!” growled Mave as she came to her brother’s aid. She waved over Essie. “Use your runecloth on his ribs, he can’t breathe.”

Essie pulled out the final strip of the blue linen, but Elucard stepped in her way. “No, he can manage. We need to put more distance between us and the town.”

“We’ve been marching for two days!” roared Mave. She pulled up Quinn and shouldered him so that he could move with more ease.

“Mave… he’s right…” grunted Quinn. “I can… manage. The king… is counting… on… us.”

Mave gave Elucard a dark glare. Her eyes were steely and cold.

Timber shouldered her bow and rushed further up the path. The hill leveled off and the pines stood taller, but more sparse. Roots, mossy logs, and ferns littered the forest floor. Plenty of places to hide.

“What are you thinking, Tim?” Corso came up behind the kanis and rested his crossbow against the rough trunk of a nearby tree. He chewed on a stick of bitterroot to keep his senses calm but sharp.

“We’ve been followed for the last five days.”

“You noticed that too?” Corso responded. He gave her a weary grin under his tired eyes.

“I think this would be the perfect spot to ambush him. The longer we have Quinn dragging his feet, the better chance of him picking us off on his terms—no offense.”

Corso spat a wad of dark green juice. “None taken. I like the idea. Let’s get set up.”

***

The cold night settled among the pine forest as the final sunlight dripped into the horizon. Timber’s teammates had long since marched on, leaving her to build a hideaway underneath a propped up dead log. A curtain of moss dangled from the trunk, and between the shadows of the forest and the berm of pine needles and soil, Timber might have well been just a ghost.

She found new additions for her ghillie cloak, adding the ferns and moss that populated this new area while discarding the foliage from other regions she trekked through.

“What do you smell, Tim?” whispered Corso. He crawled on his stomach slower than an earthworm. Giving off no movements in the shadows or any sound. However, in the cool air, the slightest noise could travel for miles, which was why the ARO and Black Rabbit silent whisper technique was such a valuable asset for a deadeye or assassin.

Timber filled her nostrils with the passing breeze. The mysterious tracker was close, but not here yet.

“Our mark is nearby,” Timber said in the silent whisper, but frowned when Corso didn’t make any response. “Our mark is nearby,” she said again with her voice slightly higher.

“Good. Keep frosty… and don’t get shot.”

Timber gave him a small nod and watched him creep to his own hiding spot.

Hours passed and the moonlight inched through the sky and shifted the shadows among the trees. Timber’s eyes ached as she continued to stare with vigilance into the forest.

One formless blob of shadows in particular had her attention. She watched it carefully, cautiously, unable to decipher its shape. It could be a possum, it could be nothing—or it could be her target. She had no way of knowing. Even with her excellent wolven vision, she still hadn’t the foggiest idea about what she was looking at.

Should she take her shot? Should she sacrifice her position in order to get the jump on her enemy?

She glanced at Corso's hideaway. She couldn’t tell if he had the same concerns.

She focused on the shadow once more. Did it shrink? Did it shift at all? It seemed different. She gripped her bow tightly and pulled back her drawstring. She needed to act fast, she couldn’t hesitate any longer. She wasn’t dealing with just another Estinian soldier. No, this one was a professional. Trained in camouflage. Trained to hunt. To hunt her!

She released and her arrow sailed forth striking the blob.

Thunk!

The arrow hit its target, but made no sound of penetrating flesh or leather armor, instead the sound of penetrating a hay target. Timber’s eyes widened as a glint of steel twinkled in the light. A sharp pain exploded through her shoulder. She grimaced in pain and fell backwards. Gripping a claw full of needles and dirt, she scrambled to her knees and dragged herself behind the cover of a tree.

Ka-shnk!

Corso’s bolt fired from his crossbow. Then silence.

Timber held still, holding her breath. She listened closely for anything, any sign of what became of her target or partner.

Silence.

Her shoulder ached as she twisted her head to peek around the tree.

Silence once more.

Timber drew her dirk and licked her chops. She was thirsty. Tired. Hungry. Frightened.

Clang! Shnkt!

“AArrgh!” Corso’s cry shattered the silent air

Her pulse raced as her breath grew as short as her patience. She clenched her eyes tightly.

“Corso!?” she yelped.

Timber grit her teeth, Corso was hurt and she was just sitting here not doing a damn thing about it! She winced as she pulled herself to her feet.

“Corso!?” Timber called out again. “Corso, I’m coming!”

“I’m here.” No-Hops’ familiar, dry voice cracked through the night. He grimaced as he trudged through the brush until he stood next to Timber. The harekin held a bloody hand to his ribs. “Are you okay?”

Timber slid back down to her rear and glanced at her shoulder. “It’s not too bad. Yourself?”

“The bloody bastard nicked me good before I finished him off.” He rolled a bandage around his side and then gestured for Timber to lean closer to him.

“How’d you see him?” asked Timber.

Corso inspected her shoulder, carefully removing the arrow and dressing it with gauze and bandages. “How do I say this without you killing me?”

Timber scowled under the pain. “What do you mean?”

“I bloody well couldn’t see the bloke, so I needed him to reveal his position,” Corso said slowly.

“You used me as a decoy?!” Timber roared.

“Love, it wasn’t bloomin’ personal, I just needed to—” Corso ducked his head as Timber swiped her claws at him.

“Corso No-Hops, I ought to crunch your head off!”

“Plenty of time for head crunching later, darling, but now we have to get back to Mave and the others,” Corso chuckled. “How’s the old bow bender?”

Timber winced as she rotated her shoulder. “Stiff, but I can still shoot.”

“Apparently not as well as I can!” Corso hooted before running off into the night.

“Corso, I swear to Alanna!” growled Timber as she chased after him.