The first howl answered the horn, then a second, then a chorus as packs poured out of dens and barracks. The streets filled fast with pounding feet and claws on stone. Leaders shouted directions, but mostly it was instinct; they all turned toward the same place, where the blood‑scent was thickest.
"Hotel side!" someone barked. "Move, move!"
A lean scout skidded around a corner, paws barely touching the ground as she ran along the outer roofline.
As soon as they entered the inn, the smell hit them like a wall.
The first wolves through the doorway stopped, hackles lifting. Blood. Thick, hot, recent. Jackal. Hyena. Mongoose. Boar. Powder‑sharp bite of whatever had punched clean holes in plaster. All of it layered and heavy enough to sting their eyes.
But there were no bodies.
