The Warning in Blood
The night was heavy with an eerie silence, the kind that follows a storm. The air smelled of damp earth and distant rain, but it was not the weather that had the pack on standby, it was the rogue standing at the border, his presence signaled something far worse.
A low growl rumbled from the warriors guarding the entrance to the pack's land as the stranger stood unshaken, his face was covered in a hood, his hands raised in surrender. Yet, what sent a shiver through those watching was not the rogue himself. It was the piece of fabric drenched in blood that he held between his palm, stained and worn at the edges.
The scent of blood filled everywhere, unmistakable.
The warriors were tensed, their bodies stood ready to strike, but the rogue did not waver. He merely tilted his head, his voice raspy when he finally spoke.
"I came to replay a message from Alpha Rowan."