Alpha Malcolm dismounted and crouched by one of the fire pits, his fingers sifting through the ashes. He picked up a fragment of charred meat, sniffing it carefully.

“Freshly cooked rabbit,” he stated, his voice laced with caution. “Recently.”

I moved closer to the makeshift shelters, kneeling down and hoping to catch a trace of the intruder's scent. “It smells... vaguely familiar. But they haven't left anything personal behind.”

“Of course not,” Malcolm replied, his gaze scanning the perimeter. “If they were careless enough to leave something behind, tracking them would be easy.”

“You're right, Malcolm. Especially if this group has been planning it meticulously all along,” I murmured, my...