We trained until noon, when Zane finally declared a break for food.

My stomach had been growling for the past hour, so I did not argue.

Inside the cabin, he laid out simple fare. Dried meat. Hard cheese. Bread still soft enough to suggest he had baked it recently.

We ate in silence.

I was too exhausted to attempt conversation, and he did not seem inclined to fill it.

"This afternoon," Zane said as I swallowed the last of my water, "we work on sensing."

"Sensing what?"

"Life. Energy. Movement."

He gestured vaguely.

"Moon Blessed wolves could feel other living things around them. Not thoughts. Not minds. Presence."

He stood....