The descent into the valley took longer than expected. Bloodmoon Mountain towered behind them like a jagged red-black spear, its peak lost in a swirl of burnt-orange mist. The armored vehicle rumbled into the first stretch of town as the last of the daylight bled out across the rooftops.
Ashfall Crossing wasn't big. Just a cluster of timber buildings pressed against the foothills, smoke rising in thin curls from metal chimneys. The air smelled like wet earth, embered pine, and something metallic Cyrus couldn't quite place.
Kina was the first to step down from the vehicle. Her posture shifted immediately—looser, alert, almost animal in the way she scanned the street. Growlithe leap-down beside her, nose twitching.
Cyrus followed, tightening his jacket against the cold wind funneling off the mountain. "Charming place," he muttered.
"Charming isn't the word they'd use," a tired voice said.
One of the local rangers approached—mid-thirties, heavy boots, cloak patched too many times. Dark circles under the eyes. A Noctowl perched on his shoulder, ruffling its feathers anxiously.
"You must be the King team," the ranger said. "Name's Harlan. Sorry for the state of things. We're… managing."
Kina tilted her head. "Where's everyone?"
Harlan exhaled through his teeth. "Inside. Curfew started at dusk. Too many attacks lately."
Cyrus felt a small jolt. "From the Ursaluna?"
"Yeah." Harlan rubbed his forehead. "Normally this time of year we get a few irritated Teddiursa or a territorial Ursaring on the lower trails. Happens during the migration up to the peak. But this?" His Noctowl shifted uneasily. "This is different. They're not moving with any pattern. They're not waiting for the season. They're coming down. Constantly. Like something's spooking them uphill."
Kina exchanged a quiet look with Cyrus. "How often?"
"Every night," Harlan said. "Every single night for the past month."
Cyrus's stomach tightened. "And… Bloodmoon Ursaluna sightings?"
Harlan's mouth pressed into a line. "Too many. And closer than they should be."
The wind shifted—cold, sharp—and Cyrus caught the metallic smell again. This time stronger. Iron. Like blood on stone.
Kina stiffened. "There it is."
Harlan scratched at his beard. "We don't know the cause. But whatever's happening is bad enough that even the regulars have fled. Last week, we found an entire den of Ursaring that had abandoned their cubs."
Cyrus blinked. "They left their Teddiursa behind?"
"Ran," Harlan said. "Like something terrified them."
Growlithe let out a low, uneasy rumble.
Kina crouched to scratch the side of its neck. "You alright?"
The fire pup leaned into her hand, but its eyes stayed fixed on the shadowed tree line at the far edge of town.
The mountain loomed there—silent, brooding, almost watching.
Cyrus swallowed. "We should drop our gear and start gathering data."
Harlan gestured toward the inn near the town square. Light glowed behind shuttered windows. "We've cleared the top floor for you. Your briefing room is next door—we've got recordings, attack logs, and a few samples. Whatever you're doing up there… we hope it helps."
As they walked, the silence settled strangely. No kids outside. No merchants closing up stalls. Just empty streets and shuttered doors.
Kina's Sliggoo popped her head from the side of her jacket, sensing the mood. Her antennae quivered.
Cyrus glanced at Kina. "Have any thoughts on potential causes?"
She didn't answer immediately. Instead she stopped in the middle of the street, staring toward the mountain. The wind pulled a strand of her hair forward, and she hooked it behind her ear without looking away.
"…Something's obviously wrong up there," she said quietly. "Not just territorial. Not just instinct."
Cyrus felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold.
"Do you think it has something to do with the Bloodmoon or the Bloodmoon Ursaluna Line?"
"No." She paused. "Something else."
Growlithe growled again—sharper. Sliggoo melted halfway behind Kina's leg.
The ranger's Noctowl snapped its wings open in alarm.
Harlan spun. "Inside. Now."
A deep, bone-shaking roar rolled down the mountain like a thunderclap.
Not close.Not yet.
But close enough to make every sign creak in the wind.
Cyrus felt his pulse spike.
Kina didn't move.
Instead, she whispered—barely audible:
"That wasn't one roar."Her eyes narrowed."That was several."
Cyrus didn't have a name for the feeling that settled in his chest then. Only that whatever they were walking into tomorrow… it wasn't a normal migration.
And something had all the Ursaluna and their kin terrified enough to leave their territory.