most things, Kurth simply got his way.
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Shai woke to the sound of growling and started at the blood and feathers on the ground before her. Then she noticed the paws resting on either side of that pile and remembered. Not a nightmare then, no more so than that memory she had been reliving in her sleep at least. One day perhaps this too would be nothing more than a memory that haunted her in slumber.
She rose and followed her own trail back to that of her companions. The memories of how Kurth had used her put his scent in her nose like a foul perfume. With a snarl, she resumed pursuit.
Shortly after noon, she began a careful trek around a village, staying close, but well within the shadows of the meager woods. The scent of the others continued into the village, but she was confident she would find it again on the other side. They wouldn’t hide out this close to the scene of their crime.
Patient. Quiet. Stealthy. She moved around the village, her nose to the ground and her ears tuned to the sounds around her. She could smell people and the aroma made her salivate. As predicted, she soon found their scent again. Jervis, Mar, and Kurth had left on the southernmost road from the village around dawn judging by the strength of the scent trail. They were fools for daring to stay the night there. Had she not dispatched the lead rider, the hunters would be hot on their trail by now and would most likely have them by morning.
Resisting the urge to howl out success, she broke into a long lope, leaving the village behind. Excitement energized her so that the forest seemed to move, working its way around her, and she flowed forward on the tide of her own will. Four legs drove into the ground, consuming yards with each long, powerful stride, yet she felt no fatigue. It was almost time to rejoin those who had left her behind, abandoning her to this fate. So engrossed was she in the chase that she traveled through the night and almost loped into their camp at dawn. The acrid smell of a recently doused campfire stung her nose. Her head and tail dropped, lowering into a wary, stalking posture.
“We should get moving.”
It was Jervis. He sounded uncomfortable and reeked with the sour tang of fear. The pale light of dawn upped the risk, but she needed to hear their words. Slinking in close where she could see them through the spare foliage of a small bush, she sank to her belly and waited.
“Will you stop.” Kurth snarled and she softly echoed it with her new voice. “No one’s going to catch us.”
She could see his predatory smile as he held up a sparkling object before them. They had stolen the jeweled mask fashioned for the tomb of Lord Ithar’s ailing father, the mask that would make him beautiful and welcome in the afterlife. Ithar had to have known something as extravagant as the gold mask would tempt thieves.
“We’ll need to break it down to sell it. Almost a shame to destroy such a pretty piece, eh boys?”
Jervis knew better than to reply. The comment wasn’t made in want of a response. Mar, however, emerged from his brooding and stood, glowering at Kurth.
“I thought you said you had a buyer lined up?”
“Does it matter?” Kurth held out the mask to him. “You want to return it?”
Mar stepped back.
Kurth nodded as if he had expected as much and turned the mask in the morning light to admire it. “We can live like kings on what this thing is worth.”
“Was it worth my sister do you think?”
Mar’s bitter tone eased her disappointment in him. He was her brother. She needed to believe he hadn’t wanted to leave her.
Kurth slipped the mask back into his pack and stood, nearly a hand taller than Mar. His eyes narrowed. He scowled at her brother and her hackles went up.
“If you don’t think so then we’ll just split your share.”
“The whole blasted mask wouldn’t be enough.” Mar spoke bravely enough, but she could see his weight shift with uncertainty.
Kurth shoved him and Mar landed