The horn that followed Draven's order did not sound like the earlier warnings.
This one was deeper.
Longer.
It rolled across the estate like distant thunder, vibrating through the stone beneath Selara's boots.
A full pack summons.
Below the eastern watchtower, movement rippled through the courtyard as warriors emerged from barracks and houses, fastening armor, pulling blades from racks, tightening straps with practiced speed.
No panic.
But no hesitation either.
Selara remained at the tower edge beside Draven, her silver eyes fixed on the forest where shadows still moved between the trees.
They hadn't retreated.
They hadn't advanced.
They were simply there.
Watching.
"Confident," she murmured.
Draven's voice was quiet beside her. "Or reckless."
Selara didn't answer immediately.
Her attention remained on the shifting silhouettes.
Reckless scouts died quickly.
Confident ones knew exactly how far they could push.
The difference mattered.
