Unmoving

Leander's pov Short beams of moonlight descended from above, intermittent strokes of luminosity breaking through the dense forest canopy as we ran. We didn't need the light. Wolf vision provided striking clarity of the landscape in almost absolute darkness, but even without such a gift, we probably would have been able to successfully navigate the terrain blindfolded. Each of us knew these woods like the back of our hands. Within minutes, the dimness of the forest gave way, revealing a soft glow twenty feet ahead. Not much farther now. My gait slowed, legs feeling heavier with every step. I hated losing wolves. It never got any easier to say goodbye. Finally crossing the tree line, I stepped out into the clearing and stopped. The drums fell silent. To my right stood four unmistakable structures. Meticulously prepared, each fallen Wolf had been anointed with spices and dressed in noble tribal fare. Six feet off the ground, bodies cradled in suspense by an intricately woven labyrinth of