Layleen
Intruder? The word echoes in my mind as I strain to see whatever it is that Ragnar has detected in the distance. His wolf senses must have picked up on something, something my duller human perception can't quite grasp. I scan the trees, the rustling leaves, the shadows—but nothing seems out of place to me.
I mumble a question under his palm, my lips brushing against his skin. He flinches slightly, the muscles in his arm tightening before he finally lowers his hand from my face.
"What kind of intruder are we talking about here?" I ask more clearly now, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, still slightly breathless. "A rogue?"
"No," Ragnar replies, shaking his head slowly, his eyes never leaving the forest. They sweep over the area with sharp focus, narrowed in suspicion. "I can't quite place what I'm sensing... but it's not a rogue."
