That's the thing, isn't it? Whatever gulf exists between them (vast as the two seas), he can still trust her with him for as long as they're both trying to get through this shithole in one piece. That understanding that runs deep in your bones, perhaps, from too many years and too many battles.

A beat. He listens a second longer. "Not far. Circling around."

His fingers twitch. He has got Axii if need be, but he can't cast it on an entire pack at once. If they're here, they're meant to stand in the way. That's the nature of this place.

He leans down—dagger out of his boot and into his hand. The snarl comes around the corner before the first wolf does: thick white fur, teeth bared. Behind it, several pairs of eyes glow gold in the darkness, matching his own.

Then they pounce.