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The obvious leader of the pack measured more than five. They were all black and their hair was long and matted, their mouths were filled with excessively large canines, leaving their faces coated with thick white goo. Their eyes gleaming with hate. The leader of the pack strode through the rest, approaching the barrier, baring his teeth at Dralazar.
    Dralazar laughed. “Speak you mutt,” he commanded. “It took me a long time to give you the gift of speech.”
    Broken and garbled words came out of the Hound’s mouth. “Whaat u waaaant.” Each word was long and drawn out. It sounded like a demon was trying to speak with a mouthful of gravel.
    “That’s better,” he cooed. “I assume you and your mangy friends are hungry.” The pack’s barking immediately resumed as they pushed each other closer to the barrier. Dralazar held up his hand and the barking immediately ceased. “I have a job for you.”
    The Hounds, salivating in anticipation of the promised hunt exploded out from the mouth of the cave with Raynor right behind them. He took to the skies to lead the pack back towards the forest. The giant Hounds leapt over rocks and boulders with such ease they might not have been there at all.
    Dralazar replaced his basin on the table, brushing his hand across the top he called the liquid back to its place. Leaning over it, he whispered his enchantment. A picture began to appear and he could see the rocks and boulders as the leader of the pack ran through the gantlet of stone that surrounded the caves. He was now looking out through the pack leader’s eyes. This way he could see the end of the Solus as if he had done it with his own hand.
    ***
    Kiora had to know why Emane had agreed to be her Protector. He had done nothing but openly despise her from the first day. He was fast, but it didn’t matter. Using threads, Kiora had just become the best tracker in the kingdom.
    Moving through the trees she focused in on Emane’s thread, feeling and following. His thread felt the same as those who had sided with good, but vibrated at a much slower frequency than those with magic. It also seemed thinner. She had followed him for sometime before the ground began to slope downward underneath her feet and she was forced back on her heels, using her hands to keep from tumbling end over end. The land was alight with sound, birds chattering, bugs humming and the sound of running water getting closer. As the sound of water increased so did the strength of the thread, and she knew she was getting close.
    Thankfully the ground leveled out as the vegetation thickened and she moved her hands back to the front to protect her face and eyes. The trees grew closely together here, their branches intertwining above her head, and the bushes had no intention of letting her pass. Trying not to make too much noise she pushed and weaved, breaking through the heavier part of the tree line. Once out, she could see the outline of the Prince standing next to a shallow but fast flowing river. Startled, she quickly dropped to her knees to avoid being seen.
    There from her knees, she watched him pacing back and forth in front of the river, his lips moving, muttering something underneath his breath. He picked up a rock and threw it as hard as he could into the river, then another, and another.
    She settled in, watching him pace. He walked as a prince should walk: tall and straight with an air of royalty. His features were strong, unlike Kiora’s, and in the sun his blue eyes seemed even bluer, a perfect combination with his sandy blond hair. He reached back, pushing his hair off his forehead. She felt an odd thud in her chest and shook her head. It really was a shame she thought, that he was such an ass.
    Prince Emane stopped, staring absently at the river as all the natural tension he usually held dropped away, as if it had been peeled from him. His shoulders drooped, his head lowered and he looked, for the first time since she had met him, vulnerable.