You Must Be Swift

A howl for the fighters rose up over the packlands and Odysseus, after chucking the turtle shell he'd just found into his den, answered the call. He'd spoken with Rhyme just enough to recognize that he was the one calling. No doubt, given the recent events with the injured boy, this was about him and whatever was after him.

Odysseus paused on the outskirts of the gathering place to look over those who had beaten him to it. He knew neither of the boys who were there - something he'd have to fix soon - but both of them were quite young and the stoic male found that a touch alarming. Hopefully the more seasoned fighters were as slow to arrive as he was.

After nodding solemnly at Rhyme, Odysseus took a seat near the alpha. He sat ramrod straight and casually watched their surroundings for the arrival of others.