They Came in the Night

Ezekiel de le Poer · 04-11-2012, 10:19 PM

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Upwind as he was, the two figures stood out against the tawny backdrop of the Waste. It was rare these days to find a member who did not—Ezekiel was among the few still capable of blending into the grass. He was truer gold than the northern-bred coyotes despite his heritage, though this was marred by his father’s sable genetics that dappled along the length of his spine and formed a dark saddle along his shoulders and spine. Only the weapons and added flash of silver at his throat fell at odds with the grass, but he was not trying to hide.

While he trusted both of the higher-ranked members of the clan, he was still a man driven by paranoia and still debated avoiding them. If there had been cause for concern within his ranks it had been crushed. Had Helotes not slaughtered his brother, the Aquila would have. He was savage in his thinking and savage in his actions, and no man could question this.

By the time he had closed the distance between the pair and himself, Ezekiel caught the Hydra’s voice on the wind. He frowned and slowed his approach, drawing short of Vesper. “You haven’t heard then,” he began, and seeing this was the truth from Helotes’ face, spoke on. “Wolves crossed our borders. They wounded several and came armed with steel and riding horses.” For an instant, his eyes glared an accusation, but it was only half-true. Ezekiel himself had not been at the front of the attacks and only learned of them from the wounded.

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