Page 37 of Salt Between the Wolves

“I thought the world had ended.”

“Earlier today you thought it ended at the mountains.”

“Exactly.”

The laughter returned.

“But I mean it,” he continued. “Everyone should see it at least once.”

His gaze lifted briefly toward the stars.

“Sometimes you need to stand somewhere big enough to remind yourself how small your problems are.”

The words settled quietly around the fire.

No one mocked him this time, perhaps because they understood exactly what he meant.

The night deepened around them, conversations fading one by one while the fires slowly burned lower. Yet Eira remained where she was a little longer, her hands wrapped around the warm cup while the last traces of the song seemed to linger somewhere beyond hearing.

Surrounded by firelight, laughter, and the steady presence of people who expected nothing from her except her company, she felt something she had not experienced in a very long time. It was not a perfect or permanent sense of belonging, nor was it strong enough to erase everything that had come before, but it was real enough for her to recognize it when it arrived.

And beneath the mountains, on that quiet winter evening, it felt like more than enough.

The camp stirred before dawn.

No one needed to wake the others. Years of patrols had shaped the habit too deeply for that. One by one, wolves emerged from blankets and bedrolls, feeding the fire, checking horses, and moving through familiar routines with the quiet efficiency of people who had done the same thing hundreds of times before.

The sky remained dark when Eira stepped from beneath the shelter of the trees.

The last embers still glowed beneath a layer of ash.

Cold bit immediately at her face.

Nearby, someone handed her a cup of whatever remained from the previous night's drink. It had lost most of its heat, but she accepted it anyway.

Across the camp, Riven was already awake.

Of course he was.

He stood beside one of the horses, trying unsuccessfully to look like a seasoned commander rather than a young man enjoying every moment of his first independent patrol.

One of the older hunters watched him for a moment before shaking his head.

"You've been standing there for ten minutes."

"I'm supervising."

"You're staring at a saddle."

"Someone has to."

The hunter snorted.

"Remarkable leadership."

Several nearby wolves laughed.

Riven accepted the mockery with surprising dignity.