The Fifth City
sitting rigidly against the tree, her eyes so wide that her eyebrows were halfway up her scalp.  The haze of sleep fell off Sylvia so quickly at Neve’s expression that she was wide awake immediately.  Her heart thumped against her chest as she sought the danger.
    Slowly, ever so carefully, Sylvia turned her head in the direction Neve was staring.  In the deepest recesses of her heart, she already knew what it would be.
    Toward them stalked a sinewy wolf, its fur black as night, with a few white markings on its ears.  Its lips were curled up to reveal sharp, white teeth, and a growl reverberated from between its jaws.
    Sylvia’s stomach turned to stone.
    The creature moved with sinister grace through the trees.  Past it, Sylvia could see that the Scout camp was empty.  They had moved on, but this wolf hadn’t.
    Sylvia twisted into motion just as the wolf did.
    The animal aimed for Neve, since she was closer.  In a flash, Sylvia’s shoulder rammed into its flank, knocking it away from Neve, who had scurried backwards on her hands and feet, finally unfrozen.

 
    Teeth bared and dripping saliva, the beast now faced Sylvia, but she wasn’t afraid—after months of training with her own wolf, she knew these animals inside and out.
    But the Scouts trained their beasts in their own way, and the dark wolf lunged for her knife hand, clearly knowing it should disarm its opponent first.  Sylvia flung herself backwards, pivoting on a heel to keep the beast in front of her.  It skidded past her, then whipped itself around, having missed its mark.
    Sylvia darted in, the dagger a lethal extension of her arm, sailing toward the wolf’s side.
    She would have to kill it, because if it returned to the Scouts with human-made wounds, they would know there was an enemy out in the wilds nearby.
    Her slash missed by a hairs-breadth as the animal dodged and rolled away in an impressive and unnatural move.  It had been trained well.
    But Sylvia realized too late that it had rolled back toward Neve’s direction.  She had a wild thought that it could sense Neve was the weaker target.
    The Lightcity girl had the borrowed knife in her grip, but merely stared, eyes wide, as the animal approached.  The girl was completely frozen in her tracks, terror written across her face.
    Without a thought, Sylvia hurtled herself at it, throwing her whole body onto the animal, her arms flung wide.
    She collided with the furry beast, knocking them both into a tumble in the dirt.  Sylvia barely registered kicking Neve as she and the wolf toppled to the ground, with Sylvia fighting to keep away from its snapping jaw.  She inhaled a whiff of its wolfy scent as she struggled to retain her grip on the beast, now fighting to free itself.  Sylvia buried her dagger in its side.
    Wounded, the beast fought harder under Sylvia’s weight.  With a final jerk of her arm, she sunk the dagger deep into its chest this time, ending it.
    Sylvia’s veins sang with energy as the adrenaline spent itself.  She pulled herself up off the beast, heart racing as if she’d just been running, her hand sticky with blood.
    Neve stared down at the dark wolf, still clutching the knife.  The girl blinked several times.  Sylvia looked away from the dead wolf, for once feeling sorry for one of the beasts.
    The Scouts had made it this way.  She had been forced to kill it.  To protect Neve, and herself.
    Her own Luna had a wild side, but Sylvia had trained her wolf to protect her, and obey; not to attack and maim like the Scouts had done.  They were much worse than the wild wolves, who only sought to protect themselves and their territory.  Sylvia shook her head in disgust.
    She could tell Neve needed a minute; your first wolf encounter wasn’t something you just shook off.  And Sylvia had a feeling Neve would be embarrassed, having frozen like that.  So she wiped her bloody hands on a patch of moss, brushed the dirt from her clothes, and waited.
    While scanning the woods

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