Roane and Bastion were nearing their camp. Roane could sense his own men and knowing it was safer, they began killing the wolves and any Romah guards they came upon as they made their way out of enemy territory, closing the gap into their own. They still needed to cover twenty miles, but once they came upon the last of the Romah scouts, and let their bodies fall to the ground behind them, they slowed their pace. They still kept to a brisk speed, but this was their resting time. Once they hit their encampment, he knew their army would have to pick up its own speed to stay ahead of their enemy.
They cleared a tree line, and he sensed an attack from behind. Roane twisted around, his sword drawn before he realized the body hurdling at him was a Christane wolf.
“Halt!” a voice cried out in a
