For some reason, Gail expected the forest to light up in splendor, or for a mystical creature to emerge from the forest to lend her guidance, or for a colossal beast to come barreling toward her with shining fangs and claws. Of course, none of those happened, and thankfully not the last one. She let out a sigh.

As she padded closer to the woods, the sheer darkness of the trees made Gail wary. Even with the brightness of the two moons, the trees looked unnaturally darker than the pines she could see near their cave. Then she realized the snow was ashy. On the ground and falling from the sky, it was as though a volcano had erupted nearby. Even the air smelled like sulfur. Gail was willing to believe that, having read the havoc that a volcanic eruption can wreak on land both near and distant, but the spine-chilling chill of the breeze that buffeted Gail was basically a slap to the face. If a volcano weren’t the cause, what could possibly have shrouded this area in ash, so much so that the trees looked inky?

The Forest of Shadows living up to its name, Gail thought with a shudder.

Most of the foliage had withered within the forest. Only few were fortunate to survive for their flowers to blossom. On the floor, where a sliver of moonlight pierced through the canopy, a small patch of flowers reflected the moon’s brilliant glow. Sheltered beneath the sprouts were tendrils with glistening hairs. Gail crouched to better admire the juxtaposing beauty. Her hand extended to touch the petals, but she withdrew it as though Terra had slap her wrist. She realized that this was a sundew, a carnivorous plant that Sierra had told her from one of her books. While it shouldn’t be life-threatening to Gail—at least, she hoped this plant wasn’t capable of eating her up—she didn’t want her fur getting caught in its sticky hairs. She stood up and moved onward, casting one last glance at the flowers before delving deeper into the darkness.

As she continued to thread the forest in a single direction, the voice of Terra scraped at her like a feline scampering up a tree’s gnawed bark. Her warning had only made her more anxious of what could be lurking in these woods. “You won’t just be hunting for a simple feral,” she had said the previous day, and again earlier morning before she left to set up the ritual. “Something else will be waiting for you out there. Stay sharp, and don’t act like a helpless cub when you’re confronted with trouble. May Ventay protect you.”

Not only the Zetas, but even Terra reassured her of Ventay’s protection. She would have been filled with more confidence if not for the fact that she had also been reminded to challenge for the Beta rank. Of course Terra had a to leave a bitter taste in her maw just when she was starting to have faith in her. “I still can’t see myself toppling that bastard Zane. He can just lift me up by the scruff while I could only tickle him to death. And if I’m not hunting for a feral, then what am I supposed to— Oof!”

She rubbed her snout when she bumped into a log that had fallen and got wedged in a splintered trunk. The decay of the bark and skittering insects suggested decrepit age. She muttered under her breath as she ducked under the ancient log. Then she heard chuckling from the shadows. Her ear twitched as she spun to where she thought it had come from. Her heart raced, but in spite of her fear she drew her claws while revealing her teeth. “Show yourself! I know you’re there, I can smell you!” She had hoped that it was just her paranoia tricking her senses, but a slick voice responded to her challenge.

“Bold of you taunt me like that when you can’t see me. What if I could tear off that raspy tongue of yours before you could even catch a glimpse of me?” He cackled once more. His voice seemed to have come from above, and sure enough, Gail could just barely outline his silhouette perched on a branch. The conifer leaves and the lack of moonlight made it difficult to make out any more of his figure.

“I know you’re up there, and I’m not scared of your threat! You don’t look to be capable of ripping my tongue off, not before I smash your head against a tree!” Secretly, Gail did think he’d be able to do such a thing. While her senses were heightened with fear, she didn’t want to be sent running with her tail between her legs from her first foreign encounter. Moreover, this was her first foreign Ferian encounter. At least, she assumed him to be one. He was no wolf, that she could tell; she guessed some sort of felid with the slender tail draped behind him.

“Calling my words hollow now? I’m hurt.” His head drooped for a moment, but the shine of his teeth showed malice. “If you think you’re that quick, then why don’t you entertain me by chasing me? If you decline, then maybe it’s your words that are hollow. And who knows, I might offer you something if you manage to catch me.”

This smelled like a trap. Gail was well aware that she would be running blind in unknown territory. This may have been an obstacle during her Cubbing, but her shortsightedness and lack of patience with this irritating whatever he was made her play right into his game. When he leaped off the branch toward a neighboring tree, Gail gave chase.

His swiftness, mixed with the darkness and foliage, made it impossible to track him by sight, but Gail could trace his spoor among the scent of pine and ash. Her eyes were set in front of her to avoid running into another tree, but she could imagine where her prey was going. It was like a ghostly trail that only she could see weaving around the bushes and trees. Sometimes the trail would break, though, ending suddenly until Gail could pick back up the scent.

“I didn’t expect you to actually be able to keep up,” the stranger remarked. “Maybe you actually could keep me entertained.”

Gail growled; she hastened her pace and focused more on his scent. “Are you seriously just treating me as a form of amusement?”

“Well, unless you grab me by my throat and break my legs, I’m not gonna see you as a threat. Besides, what’s a wolf like you compared to a panther like me?”

“Why you—” Gail grinded her teeth, but then the corners of her maw lifted into a grin. “Thanks for the ideas, kitty, ‘cause I’m gonna make you eat those words!”

It seemed that there was no end to the Forest of Shadows. She didn’t register it, but it was nothing but the darkness of the ashy bark and spiny leaves no matter where you looked. The land would slope occasionally, and rock outcroppings erected here and there. Gail would stumble on a rock that blended with the dark soil (which would evoke a chuckle and growl from the panther and Gail respectively) but they were mere obstacles in Gail’s unrelenting chase. She was not losing his trail.

She swatted branches aside. Her eyes were forced to wince when the foliage tickled her eyes, making them water with its scratchy texture. She took one furious step, then she was dragged forward. For a second her heart leaped and her throat clenched. She fell and tumbled down a sheer slope. Twigs, needles, and pebbles scratched her body before her back collided with a tree. Her breath got knocked out of her from the impact; her vision was dazed as her head spun lazily.

The leaves of the tree rustled when the panther perched on a branch. “Oh gods, are you alright?” Gail’s senses might have been impaired, because she thought that there was genuine concern in the panther’s voice; all trace of malice had melted. When she heard him drop down, she scrambled away. He looked like a living shadow, slowly stepping closer, his slender tail swaying in anticipation. Despite his menacing appearance, he was only an inch or so taller than Gail. He defensively raised his arm when Gail showed her teeth with her throat rumbling.

She threatened, “I’m not going down without a fight!”

“Relax, I’m not gonna eat you or anything. I don’t mean you any harm.”

Gail scoffed. “As if you wouldn’t hurt me after having me chase you around.” She glowered. “You were just trying to tucker me out, weren’t you? So you wouldn’t have as hard of a time trying to kill me.”

“What? No! I just . . .” The panther uttered a mixture of a sigh and a groan. “Look, I’m sorry I made you chase me and all, but it is your fault you fell down the hill like that. Maybe if you weren’t running like a blind cheetah chasing a bird, you’d have noticed the decline.”

Was he seriously shifting the blame onto her? He was even crossing his arms like a disapproving Terra watching her chase her own tail. She scowled back at him. Then realization began dawning on her face. “You’re part of my Cubbing.”

The panther cocked his head. “Excuse you?”

“I should’ve known. You’re just something trying to sway me from my goal! Unless . . . you’re who I need to be looking for?” She didn’t trust the panther’s words. When her vision had fully returned and readjusted to the darkness, she could confirm that he was a panther. Though, for all she knew he could have been a jaguar or a puma. From what she had seen in the faded pages of another of Sierra’s books, those three were practically the same Ferian.

“I . . .” The panther scratched his neck. “Did you hit your head against the tree, by any chance?”

Gail ignored the panther. Gingerly, she took a small step forward. The panther’s eyes grew cautious, but he stood his ground even after another step by Gail. And then another. Gail took several hasty glances at his hands to ensure his claws were sheathed, and it would remain that way even when only a few inches of cool air separated the two. She then circled the panther, sniffing him, even poking his arm and face. Nothing about him was any different than being in the presence of someone like Sierra. No majestic aura, no magical spectacle.

The panther looked uncomfortable the entire time, as though Gail had violated one of the many secret Panther Codes. “I don’t want to come off as rude by assuming anything about you, but I just have a gut feeling that you have never met a Ferian like me.”

Gail returned to standing in front of him. The inquisitiveness in her eyes never left as she stared him down. “Who are you?”

For once the panther didn’t reply with a quip. His expression suggested that he was contemplating whether to answer her query straight or to come up with a wittier response. Instead, he returned the question. “What’s yours first?”

Suppressing her growl, Gail figured it’d be best to answer lest she wanted another brilliant quip from him. “Gail.”

“Gail,” the panther repeated, dipping his head slightly. “My name is Ree—”

Suddenly he slapped his hand on the side of his head. The foliage around them shuddered at the sound of his pained wails. He staggered back, his face twisting. Gail didn’t know how to react aside from her maw gaping. Did something from in the shadows bit him?

With only grunts coming from the panther, Gail carefully stepped forward, slightly extending a hand forward. She tried to mimic what Sierra would do in this situation, which was to offer wordless comfort. Before she could, however, the panther bolted away. He scrambled up a tree in a frantic manner.

“Hey, wait!” Gail chased after the panther as he once again began leaping from branch to branch. He was much swifter this time. Focusing to visualize the ghostly thread, his scent trail extended greater than when he played chase with her.

The trees were more clustered in this part of the woods. Gail rounded one tree after another, unable to take two steps before having to weave around another pine. She had to squeeze between trunks and duck beneath tangled branches, not to mention grazing her skin on splinters. These were made all the more difficult with the panther’s trail zigzagging all over the place.

There was a small dell that she emerged into. She gazed up and observed the trees, trying to spot the panther when the ghostly trail of his scent ended here. A dagger flew in the air, heading straight for Gail. Her heart skipped several beats. It looked to have been headed straight for her face, but it soared between her ears and stabbed into the pine behind her. She stood frozen, eyes wide, when the panther called from the shadows. “Have that as a parting gift! You might need it!”

Gail remained petrified for a moment. A trembling sigh left her, then her throat rumbled with fury. She broke off into a dash to chase after his voice, but she stopped to glance back at the dagger stuck to the trunk. She was tempted to take it. The Deltas and above wielded not only daggers but also spears for better protection. She would just be putting herself at a disadvantage to not take it. She took one step toward, and another, her arms extended to grab; then she turned around with a grunt, forgoing the weapon and chasing after the panther.

His spoor was thin, but Gail was persistent. So long as she could see it, she would continue chasing after it. The outrage that she felt after having almost been killed by him spurred her on. Ahead of her stretched a wall of foliage beyond the trees. Too late she realized the twisting barbs intertwined beneath the leaves, and she couldn’t stop herself from bursting through them as she shielded her face with her arms. The thorns snagged and ripped her fur, tearing her skin as she emerged into a clearing with a howl of torment. Her blood glistened in the moonlight as they oozed from her torso, forearms, and legs. They dripped and speckled the fresh white snow like polka dots. Her instincts made her scoop up some of the snow and apply the cold onto the lacerations, letting it melt, easing the pain somewhat, all without questioning why the only clean snow trickled here.

Gail’s teeth would have shattered if she clenched them any harder. Admittedly, it didn’t hurt as badly. This was on par with the feral’s scraping during her first hunt and even the Alphas’ punishments. This was tolerable. She just had to numb the pain with the snow.

After scooping more snow and pressing against her left forearm, her eyes scouted the area that she found herself in. It was a much larger glade, almost too circular. All around the edges, the thorny bush acted as a wall, with the shadowy conifers towering over the snowy glade. What caught her eyes was the monumental rock that stood in the center. At the top was a flat chunk that looked as though it could be a platform. Was this a ritual ground as well? It looked too purposeful to have been formed naturally. Gail wondered if her pack was the only one to venture in the Forest of Shadows or if there were others as well, following different traditions, but having the same end as the Twinned Fangs.

She circled around the rock, searching for writing or runes on it like some sort of ancient ritual stone, but all she could spot were claw marks near the base. What was frightening was how unnaturally large they were. She approached the rock, running her hand down its coarse surface, the coolness of it chilling her fingers. She then looked at her own claws. Whoever left these claw marks couldn’t have been a regular wolf. Not even the Alphas’ claws are as monstrous as these.

Suddenly she remembered. She raised her snout, sniffing out everything that was in the air. The frigid air stung her nostrils as well as her throat, but she could scent the ancient rock, the conifer all around the clearing, and the presence of someone else . . . but it was not that of the panther, for his scent had seemingly faded completely.

The leaves of the bordering foliage rustled. More foreign scents invaded Gail’s nostrils, seemingly out of nowhere. Then they emerged from the bushes. Canine wolves far larger than the wolf Gail had hunted before came into view. Their coats were matte black, almost as inky as the forest, and their heads—they were only skulls, no eyes or anything inside. They smelled blood.

Gail took one shaky step back after another. Her back eventually met with the rock structure. She couldn’t comprehend what those creatures were as her mind panicked to both make sense of them and to calm her nerves. They were neither Ferians nor ferals . . . or were they? Were they a species that Gail had never heard or read of before? Was this what Terra had meant?

The skullwolves—a random yet fitting name that Gail plucked from her mind—drew nearer. Drool hung from their maws as they looked intent on having a piece of Gail. Their ferocious teeth could probably shatter bones, and their razor-sharp claws could tear flesh like worn-out books. Gail’s anxious eyes darted from one skullwolf to another. There was little to nothing to distinguish them from one another, and that uniformity made them more menacing.

One of the four skullwolves before her dashed forward with a ravenous growl. Gail’s entire body tensed. Her breathing had hastened, the sting from her wounds pulsing, but her focus and eyes steadied on the approaching danger. It was just like Terra running toward her during training, or the feral pouncing at her after being found alone in the open.

She tensed her claws. The beast pounced at her. With a grunt a hefty swipe, her claws slashed across the skullwolf’s face. There was little to no resistance against her claws as the skullwolf whimpered. It drew no blood, and its entire body disintegrated from its head to its tail tip. Gail was slack-jawed, dumbfound. A shiver had run up her arm after clawing the beast, chilling her to the core.

In her perplexity, a skullwolf had crept up from outside her peripheral vision. It leaped, drool gushing from its wide open maw, and chomped down hard on Gail’s right arm. She shrieked at the surge of pain—a burning yet freezing sensation ate away at her flesh. Through the pain and tears, she raised her arm, lifting the skullwolf that hung on, then slashing its belly. It released its bite to howl in pain, then it vanished before it could fall to the ground. Gail inspected her arm to see the severity of the wound, but there was no blood. Not even a bite mark was left behind, but the burning persisted, spreading, making her screw her face in pain and bafflement. Then she noticed—the lacerations from the thorns had healed. On her arms, legs, and chest, there were stains of blood, but the wounds themselves have vanished.

None of this makes any sense, she thought, panicked. None of this seems real, but it feels real.

Her arm was still shaking when another skullwolf charged at her, its wild barking alerting her of its attack. She slashed at it with its claws, and just like the previous beasts, it went down with a whine and vaporized. But if they all go down like this, then I can take all on with no problem. She grinned. Suddenly, she grew more confident in taking on these abyssal beasts.

She stepped forward, not needing the rock to lean on. The two wolves that remained in front of her growled, before both letting out howls and dashed toward her. Gail sidestepped the first one that leaped; the second skullwolf clamped its jaws on her left thigh. With a grunt through gritted teeth, she yanked the skullwolf off her, worsening the already excruciating pain. Her leg trembled, but she stood strong. Holding the skullwolf by its squirming head, she dragged her claws across its flank, then threw it at the other skullwolf that was about to attempt another leap. It whimpered, getting crushed by one of its kind before it had disintegrated, but that wasn’t enough to kill it. It stood back up, anger churning in its empty eye sockets. Gail chuckled, before she raking the leaping skullwolf’s face, its cold remains phasing through her as it vanished. Gail shivered. It still feels wrong to kill these guys, but . . .

Gail swung her head around. Her eyes landed on a lone skullwolf, looking afraid near the edge of the clearing.

This has to be what I must do for the ritual.

Now the fearless predator, she sprinted toward the remaining skullwolf whilst flexing her claws menacingly. Her eyes were locked on it as it quivered in place, unable to run away from the paralyzing fear.

Then, appearing out of nowhere, two other skullwolves flanked her from either side. It chomped on Gail’s legs, and the blazing pang of pain brought her down with a shriek. She scrambled to lift herself up with her arms, but more wolves came prowling into the clearing with incredible speed. Multiple heavy paws stepped on her back, pinning her to the ground. One even stepped on her head, squishing the side of her face against the snowy ground.

The skullwolves clawed at her back and gnawed at her limbs. Her agonized howls were drowned by the ravenous growls of the beasts as it gnawed at her. Her body was both blazing and freezing. No blood was being drawn, but it felt like she was going to die regardless. She scarcely had enough strength to stay conscious, and even that was fleeting as her eyes grew heavy.

A mighty howl bellowed throughout the forest. The skullwolves immediately stopped assaulting Gail, and in a matter of seconds, they had all fled from the clearing. Gail’s limbs felt stiff and numb, occasionally spasming. She regained just enough strength to support herself with shaking arms. She panted, forcing to regain consciousness and energy. Then she noticed—she was in the tremendous shadow of another creature. She almost didn’t want to look, but fearful curiosity forced her to slowly turn her head. Her eyes then went wide with terror and awe.

A grand feral sat atop the rock structure. Their bluish coat radiated in the soft moonlight, and their seven tails danced elegantly against the two full moons. They looked down on Gail with silver eyes, neither hostile nor friendly, but it looked curious, as though observing. Speaking, their voice was just as tranquil yet imposing as they addressed the panic-stricken wolf. “So we have finally come face-to-face, Gail Silverstreak.”