The sun was just setting, staining the clouds in shades of orange and purple. The small group of rogues sat around the fire despondently, with the exception of Boyd, who refused to shift back to his human form. He kept some distance from the others and stayed curled up in a ball of fur. Hannah brought him a bowl of stew, only to leave the untouched bowl by the tree when he refused to respond. Her heart hurt for him, and she wished she had some way to comfort him.
She slowly crept back to Michael. She was just as aware of his physical pain as she was aware of Boyd’s emotional pain. She felt the burning, aching sensation in her own hip and shoulder. She also felt his anxiety over their situation. He kept watching the woods, as though he expected another ambush at any moment.
