The mountains east of Duskwind Hollow rose like broken teeth against the pale sky, their crags blanketed in a cruel crust of ice and wind. Snowstorms whispered through the ravines, hiding dangers in the white hush.
It was there the elders had sent a small group of outer disciples for their first hunting patrol — a test of discipline and spirit use. Most were only weeks into their training.
Li Rong stood at the edge of the tree line, his breath slow, his cloak drawn tightly around his shoulders. His duskwither wolf spirit hovered faintly behind him in a ghostlike shimmer, its eyes the same quiet silver as the moon.
He wasn't alone this time.
"I still say we should've taken the lower pass," muttered a voice beside him.
It was Li Jian, a boy from the northern quarters of the clan — not especially well liked, not especially loud. But his Midnight Prowler Wolf spirit gave him unmatched stealth. It was rare in their clan, and the elders often overlooked him.
Li Rong hadn't.
"The lower pass was where that warg den was found last winter," Li Rong replied. "If I were leading a group of children, that's exactly where I'd set the ambush."
Li Jian blinked, then snorted. "So what, you expect we'll be attacked?"
"I expect we're being watched."
The others—five boys and one girl—trudged behind them. All under fifteen. All eager to show their worth.
Li Feng, of course, wasn't with them. He was with the elite patrol now—training under Elder Mo's direct eye. Where it was safe.
Here, the frost wasn't just for show.
Earlier that morning, before setting out, Li Rong had spoken with his grandfather.
"Why send me?" he'd asked.
Li Shen had looked at him from across the hearth, a rough whetstone in hand. "Because some wolves must learn to hunt in silence. Not every battle is a roar. Some are a whisper. Besides…"
He had paused, tapping the blade against the stone.
"…the elders are watching. Let them."
Li Rong had nodded, understood, and said nothing more.
Now, in the shadowed ravine, the group paused to check the ground.
"Tracks," said Li Jian, crouching beside a patch of disturbed snow. "Small… rabbit?"
"No." Li Rong knelt beside him. "See how they drag along the snow? That's a burrow predator. Fanged lizard or frost weasel. If it's wounded, we can track it."
One of the boys, Li Min, scoffed. "So what if we find a frost weasel? That's no hunt."
Li Rong didn't respond at first. He traced his fingers along the print.
"It's bleeding," he said finally. "And bleeding things attract bigger things."
The group grew quieter.
By late morning, they found the carcass. The weasel was half-eaten, mauled by something larger—its bones cracked with brutal precision.
Suddenly, a low growl echoed from the ridge above.
"Formation!" Li Rong hissed.
From the snowy slope, a hulking figure appeared. A Grayhide Bear, fur matted with gore, eyes glowing red with hunger. It bellowed, slamming a paw against a pine.
Panic gripped the group. One of the younger boys stumbled back, nearly slipping on the ice.
"Hold!" Li Rong snapped.
He stepped forward, his Duskwither Wolf flaring into full form—shadows coiling from its paws, silver eyes locking onto the beast.
Li Jian stood beside him, his Midnight Prowler flickering into view, already stalking the flanks.
The others hesitated, but Li Rong's presence was like cold steel — calm and sharp.
"Flank it from the left, Jian. You—Li Min—draw its attention with a spirit flare. When it charges, I'll take its leg."
"You want to fight that thing head-on?" Li Min spat.
"No," Li Rong said softly. "I want to cripple it."
The bear roared and charged.
Li Min panicked and fired too early—a weak burst of flame that singed the snow but missed the target. The beast barreled past it, eyes locked on Li Rong.
Too late to dodge.
Instead, Li Rong stepped forward. His shadow-wolf surged and slammed into the bear's front leg. The moment it staggered, Li Jian struck from the side, his wolf biting into the bear's ribs with ghostly teeth.
Li Rong ducked beneath a swipe, leapt, and drove his hunting knife—his father's old blade—into the creature's exposed neck.
The beast fell, twitching.
Silence followed, Just their breath and the hiss of blood in the snow.
Li Min stared, wide-eyed. The others looked between each other and Li Rong.
He turned to them slowly, voice still calm.
"Next time, follow instructions."
No one argued.
They returned before sunset, dragging the bear's corpse on a makeshift sled of pine branches. The younger disciples were bruised, scraped—but alive.
At the village gates, some elders waited. Among them, Elder Li Gan and another man—Elder Heng, of the opposing faction.
Elder Heng's lips curled faintly. "You brought down a Grayhide with children?"
"They brought it down," Li Rong corrected. "I led."
Elder Li Gan's gaze narrowed.
"That one…" he murmured to Elder Heng, "is watching everything."
Later that night, Li Jian found him by the cliffs.
"You saved all of us," he said.
Li Rong didn't look at him. "I used you."
"You still kept us alive."
Li Rong glanced over. "You're not like the others."
Li Jian tilted his head. "Because I'm not loud?"
"No," Li Rong said. "Because you're useful."
Li Jian blinked—then grinned. "You're not good at compliments, are you?"
"No."
"Good. I hate sweet-talking bastards anyway."
A pause.
Li Rong extended a hand. "Then follow me."
Li Jian clasped it, firm and sure. "To the end."