Chapter 16 — Dawn in the Pine Barrens

Pale light seeped into the barrens, turning frost-rimmed needles silver. Two columns advanced from opposite ridges: Moonfang cloaks on the south, Ironclaw furs on the north. Somewhere ahead, Hawthorne’s breakaways and the last of Red Fang lay coiled like a wounded viper.

Ophelia rode at Dylan’s right; Thorn mirrored her beside Rurik. The four kept their mounts at a walk until scouts returned, breath steaming.

“Enemy camped in Split-Pine Hollow,” a scout rasped. “Logs stacked for a fire trap across the gorge mouth. Fifty blades, maybe more.”

Dylan turned in his saddle. “Positions!”

---

#### A Plan in Murmurs

They dismounted beneath a leaning pine. Snowmelt dripped, ticking like a slow fuse.

Rurik stabbed a finger at the crude map Thorn sketched in dirt. “We hit from both flanks—one Alpha each.”

Dylan nodded. “Ophelia leads Moonfang flank; Thorn takes Ironclaw left.”

“She’s not a soldier,” Thorn objected.