Chapter 47. Wolf Scouting

RONN

The sharp smell of magic hits my nose with its characteristic itch that automatically makes me sneeze; almost immediately, I regret it, as half a dozen glares are thrown my way. I hold up a hand in apology.

“Magic, it’s thick in this forest,” I whisper.

Argell nods and points slightly to my left. “The king’s glade should lie somewhere down that path. What you smell is his wretched resume, grown by the elves he conquered and subjected to his whim,” he says with a bitter twist to his mouth.

Staring at those maroon eyes, I don’t think there’s anyone else who hates the deer demon king as much as Argell.

“Press on,” he says and continues down the uneven forest path.

When Argell had mentioned ‘ranging’, I didn’t exactly have this in mind: the alpha of the Eldad pack leading six wolvens on a hunt of sorts. Or scout, depending on what Argell felt like calling it. Gylen wasn’t allowed to come, Argell saying he can’t risk any more injuries. The rest of