The mist clung to Moon Shadow Forest like a second skin, a living entity that slithered between the ancient oaks and pooled in the hollows where the moonlight couldn''t reach. Eris Moon Shadow sat with his back against the rough bark of a sentinel oak, the grooves in its surface pressing familiar patterns against his spine. In his hands, he turned the wooden wolf carving over and over, his claws tracing the smoothed edges where years of anxious handling had worn down the sharp lines his father had carved.


    The figurine''s single remaining eye - a chip of obsidian - caught the firelight from the central pit, winking at him like it knew secrets he didn''t. It smelled faintly of pine resin and blood, the scent clinging stubbornly despite the decade since his father''s disappearance.


    "You''re going to wear that thing down to a toothpick if you keep fidgeting."


    Eris didn''t need to look up to know Lia Silvershade stood over him. Her scent preceded her - winter mint and iron, with the barest hint of the lavender sachets she kept in her sleeping roll to ward off nightmares. She settled beside him without waiting for invitation, her silver-tipped tail curling around her legs in that precise way that meant she had something serious to say but didn''t want to seem like she cared too much.


    The firelight caught in her amber eyes, making them glow like banked embers, and Eris found himself counting the faint scars that webbed across her muzzle - three from hunting accidents, two from childhood games gone wrong, and the long one that ran from her left ear to jawline, a gift from Alpha during her first blooding ceremony.


    "Not brooding," Eris said, closing his fingers around the carving. The wood had grown warm from his grip. "Just thinking."


    "About how you nearly got your spine rearranged today?" Lia plucked a blade of moon grass and began shredding it with surgical precision, the way she always did when pretending not to care. The dried husks fluttered to the ground like tiny ghosts. "Because I''ve got thoughts about that."


    Eris exhaled through his nose, watching the condensation curl in the cool night air. The memory played behind his eyes in vivid flashes - Alpha''s massive fist connecting with Rook''s ribs, the sickening crack like green wood splitting, the way the younger wolf had folded like a sapling in a storm. Worst of all had been the look in Rook''s eyes when Eris''s intervention had only made things worse. Not gratitude. Not even resentment. Just weary acceptance, as if betrayal was the natural order of things.


    "I should have—"


    "Died?" Lia interrupted. Her voice carried that particular edge she got when explaining basic survival to reckless pups. "Because that''s exactly what would''ve happened if Silas hadn''t stepped in." She turned to face him fully, the movement causing her leather chestpiece to creak - the one lined with moon-blessed silver that made Alpha''s cronies give her a wide berth. "You''re not ready to take him head-on, Eris. Not yet."


    The truth of it settled between them like a stone. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called its mournful song, the sound echoing through the hollows where the mist grew thickest. Eris''s claws extended without conscious thought, scoring fresh lines in the already scarred earth between his boots.


    Lia''s hand entered his peripheral vision, but instead of the comforting pat he expected, cold steel pressed against his palm. His breath caught as moonlight danced along the dagger''s edge - a sliver of captured moonlight given physical form. The hilt, wrapped in aged leather stripped from a direwolf''s flank, fit his grip as if molded for it. Runes depicting the First Hunt coiled around the crossguard, their ancient grooves darkened with generations of blood and oil.


    "This is your..." Eris''s throat tightened.


    "Blooding gift," Lia finished. Her fingers lingered on his wrist, calloused but warm. "Means more to me than my left paw." She guided his grip to the proper position, her touch firm and certain. "Which is why you''re borrowing it until you earn your own."


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    Eris nearly dropped the blade. The weight felt foreign yet familiar, like a dream half-remembered. "I can''t—"


    "You can''t not," she corrected, her breath warm against his ear. "Silas says the runes were carved during the Long Night when the moon wept silver. Cuts deeper than normal steel. Might help..." Her eyes flicked toward the central firepit where Alpha''s laughter boomed over the quieter conversations. "Even the odds."


    Before Eris could formulate a response worthy of the gift, a commotion erupted near the central firepit. These weren''t the usual post-hunt revelry sounds - these were snarls of genuine aggression, the wet thud of flesh striking flesh, and beneath it all, the sharp, coppery scent of fresh blood.


    They arrived in time to see Alpha drive his knee into Fen''s stomach, the younger wolf collapsing with a wet gasp that sprayed blood across the sacred firestones. Fen''s arms, already crisscrossed with half-healed scars from previous "lessons," trembled as he tried to push himself up.


    "Enough!" Silas''s command cut through the chaos like a blade through fog. The elder moved with surprising speed for his years, his ceremonial cloak flaring as he inserted himself between Alpha and his victim. Moonlight glinted off the silver threads woven into his beard - each one marking a year of wisdom earned. "This is the third beating this week, Blackfang. The Bloodmoon Council won''t ignore such conduct forever."


    Alpha''s muzzle wrinkled, exposing yellowed fangs filed to cruel points. A recent affectation that made Eris''s hackles rise. "The Council cares about strength." He kicked Fen''s side for emphasis, drawing a fresh whimper. "Not weakness. Let this be a lesson to any who can''t defend their place."


    Eris felt the dagger''s weight against his thigh, its presence both comforting and terrifying. He took half a step forward before Lia''s hand clamped on his shoulder, her claws pricking through his tunic.


    "Not like this," she breathed, her voice barely audible over the pounding in Eris''s ears. "Wait for the right moment."


    The right moment came sooner than expected.


    Deep in the dead hours of night, when even the nocturnal hunters had settled in their dens, a howl woke them both - not the clean cry of a hunting wolf, but something wet and broken, as if the throat producing it had been lined with thorns. Eris knew that sound. Had heard it in his nightmares since childhood.


    They found Alpha at the Dead Maw, the cursed ravine where no sane wolf ventured after dark. The stench hit Eris first - rotting meat and spoiled milk with an underlying current of something electric, like the air before a summer storm. Then he saw them.


    The beast stood half again as tall as a grown wolf, its patchy fur matted with substances Eris didn''t want to identify. When it turned its head, the moonlight revealed milky eyes shot through with veins of glowing green. Most disturbing were its paws - too long, too articulated, ending in blackened claws that seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it.


    "—the last batch before the full moon," Alpha was saying. His usual swagger had been replaced by something almost... deferential. The way young wolves addressed their elders. "The elder suspects nothing. The whelps will be ready at the standing stones."


    The creature''s nostrils flared, revealing a maw of mismatched teeth - some wolf, some disturbingly human. Its head snapped toward Eris and Lia''s hiding place with unnatural speed. Later, Eris wouldn''t remember deciding to attack - only the feel of the dagger sinking into matted fur, the sizzle of acidic blood against the runed blade, and Lia''s scream as claws raked her side, shredding the leather armor like parchment.


    They ran with death at their heels, Alpha''s roars of betrayal chasing them through the trees. The dagger grew hot in Eris''s grip, its runes pulsing faintly as if in warning. Behind them, the forest itself seemed to howl, branches lashing at their faces as if trying to slow their escape.


    Silas took one look at their bleeding forms and barred the door with the heavy oak beam reserved for blood feuds. The herb bundles hanging from his rafters swayed as he moved, filling the hut with the scent of dried rosemary and panic.


    "Tell me everything," he commanded, his healing herbs already in hand. The silver in his beard caught the firelight as he worked, making his face appear to flicker in and out of existence.


    As Eris gasped out their discovery between gulps of air that tasted of blood and fear, the elder''s face went stony. "The Bloodmoon trials," he murmured, crushing yarrow leaves between his palms with more force than necessary. The sharp scent made Eris''s eyes water. "He''s been sacrificing our young to those abominations to strengthen his position with the dark clans."


    Lia winced as Silas pressed the poultice to her wounds, the herbs sizzling against the acidic venom. "For what? What could possibly be worth—"


    The door exploded inward before she could finish, splinters raining down like wooden hail. In the doorway, backlit by the guttering torches of the gathering clan, stood Alpha, his eyes reflecting the same sickly green as the beast''s. The creature loomed behind him, its breath fogging the night air with tendrils of something darker than mist.


    Alpha''s smile showed every one of his filed teeth. "Now, now, children. Didn''t your elders teach you it''s rude to eavesdrop?"


    (End of Chapter Four)