Barrack laughed, “Boy, do you think me a fool? There hasn’t been a worg in our lands since Orbalok hunted down Shael.”
Lance glared at his father. “I saw the woman .. veer. She became a gigantic silver wolf.”
Barrack looked out over those gathered in the village hall. He took a moment to gauge their mood. A little fear, courage, some anger. And somewhere – he sniffed, testing the faint whisper – somewhere in this room was the smell of female wolf.
“Alright Son. Take your blooded and see what you can track. And boy,” Barrack eyeballed his son. “If a worg exists, we want it alive for questioning.”
A sly grin appeared on Lance’s youth-stubbled face.
“Perhaps there are others.”
Barrack watched his son.
He suspects.
The truth would out, eventually. Barrack’s time as chief was drawing to a close.
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