CHAPTER 20 #3
“I’m glad you’re enjoying our pack’s food.” As Charie stacked her own cracker, Lenore paused before she took a bite. She brought the small stack she’d made close to Charie.
“Cheers?” she asked playfully.
Charie laughed and nodded. With a small smile on her face, she brought hers next to Lenore.
“Cheers,” she said. Both cracker stacks bumped into each other, and in the peaceful silence that followed, they were eagerly devoured.
The delectable crunch of the cracker mingled with the savory flavors of the meat and cheese.
Each second of this brief calm simmered with shared enjoyment—until only crumbs remained.
The satisfaction of a full stomach was the blessing that kept Lenore going as they travelled across Lunavie’s territory. She nibbled on food throughout the guided trek, the small bites helping her endure the tight ache in her muscles.
But eventually, even the snacks or the added strength of her wolf form wasn’t enough to help her climb up hilly paths and get through rough terrain. Lenore began to lag behind, no matter what pace Charie tried to set for her.
“We’ll have to visit the apothecary next,” Charie said with a grimace. “Even I can feel the pain when you walk.”
Lenore paused to place her hand against a tree trunk.
Everything hurt, each muscle crying out in its own chorus of pain.
Inhaling deeply, she let out a long breath and said, “I’m not against that.
And if that apothecary also happens to have hot stones to place on my back, I’m not against that either. ”
“Hot stones?” Charie knitted her brows. “What does that mean?” Her confusion deepened when Lenore only laughed and shook her head.
“Never mind,” Lenore said. “Just anything to relieve all this pain.”
“We have some great salves and tinctures that’ll help.
Some potions we’ve gotten from a traveling merchant too,” Charie said.
“I’ll pay for you—” As Lenore opened her mouth to protest, Charie quickly added, “And don’t worry about paying me back.
You being able to move around properly is good enough. ”
“But you told me we all use the same currency!” Lenore protested. “I have money. You’ve already got all that food for me earlier.”
“And I’d rather you spend what you still have on living necessities,” Charie replied. “I’ve seen your home. It’s bare-bones.”
“Urgh—” Lenore’s shoulders sank. “I’m definitely going to repay you somehow. But thank you.”
With a gentle shake of her head, she put on a small smile. “You’re welcome, Lenore, but really, don’t worry about it. This is a nice change of pace for me.”
Lenore mulled over her words. When she met Charie, she looked like she was serving Auden and Arisa.
Is she the personal assistant to the doctor?
Someone to give an extra hand in general?
She almost felt guilty for the suspicion creeping into her thoughts when she wondered how close Charie might’ve been to Arisa.
Either way, it must be tough, she thought. Charie’s somber disposition during their first meeting was a stark contrast to now.
Sharp barks and snarls caught Lenore’s attention, then the tremors that vibrated through the forest itself.
Her head turned to the side. Between a scattered line of trees was a large clearing, with a good number of werewolves in their upright beastly forms. Many of them were sparring with each other—flashes of claws and fangs gleaming through a flurry of fast-paced action and colliding bodies.
Their titan-like size amplified every crash, an otherworldly force radiating with each roar.
A mixture of fear and awe thrummed in Lenore’s chest, unable to tear her eyes away. “What’s going on there?”
Charie regarded the sight with little interest. “Oh, that? It’s just the usual training session.”
“Training?” Lenore was taken aback. “They look like they’re about to murder each other!”
“Really? Some of them look a little tired to me,” Charie said, oblivious to Lenore’s befuddled stare at her.
Shaking her head, Lenore then asked, “I thought all the werewolves were relaxing today?”
“Not the ones determined to join the Duskryns—the rank underneath the Vesren. And plenty of werewolves find sparring their way of relaxing,” Charie said.
“The higher your rank, the better the opportunities to join prestigious hunts or missions.” She tilted her head in a certain direction.
“There’s the Vesren right there, actually. ”
Lenore followed Charie’s gaze and reeled back in shock.
A dark-blue werewolf had sidestepped a charging werewolf, grabbing the attacker by the arm. Barely a second passed when the werewolf’s arm was twisted and thrown to the ground. Dust and rocky debris flew up from the impact, and pained groans left the downed opponent.
The dark-blue werewolf’s ear twitched, muzzle set in an unimpressed fashion before he spoke words Lenore couldn’t hear.
He towered at around eleven feet, his bulky and muscular frame emphasized by the thick fur that crested around his neck and down his back.
Mismatched eyes of blue and gray glistened under the sun.
A pair of jagged scars ran along one of the werewolf’s cheeks. It was unmistakably Edmund.
“That’s Edmund?” Lenore whispered incredulously. “He looks like that?”
“You mean like a werewolf? You have your own form, remember?” Charie laughed.
“But I guess his is impressive.” She squeezed her hands together.
“Him and... Auden are definitely the strongest. It’s usually Auden or Edmund, or sometimes Azelf—if he’s in the mood—that lead the drills.
If it’s not them, then it’s the other top Duskryns that do. ”
Lenore hummed softly. Her eyes were glued on Edmund. “Can we get a closer look?”
“But what about your pain? Shouldn’t we get that checked out first?”
“Just for a little bit!” Lenore pinched her finger and thumb together, bringing them close to her face. “I can manage for that long.”
“Well…” Charie shrugged. “If that’s what you want to…” she paused, watching Lenore eagerly hurry to the edge of the trees. “... do.” She followed, choosing to stand with her behind a thick cluster of foliage. “I heard that you have knights in Arkhaven. Do you ever get to watch them train and spar?”
“Not at all,” Lenore replied. She peeked out from behind a tree, clutching tightly at the chipped bark. “But even then, it’s nothing compared to watching this.”
“I’ve seen this everyday growing up…” Charie pulled at a leaf from the bushes. As she twirled the stem in her fingers, she added, “Even Nyvens have to go through a mandatory training session every now and then.” She sighed miserably. “I hate them.”