Saul's hand tightened around the charred root skewer as Vexa's words hung in the air like smoke from a fresh kill. Her russet tail flicked once, slow and deliberate, and those fox eyes slid over him like she was measuring a mark before a hunt. His aura sense prickled with curiosity from her, yes, but also that cold undertone, sharp as a hidden claw.
What had she heard? The laughter? The ghosts they'd just buried in small talk? Or something from last night's haze that even he hadn't managed to shake?
Lira stepped forward, shoulder brushing Saul's in quiet claim, tail stiff and raised.
"What do you want, Vexa? If it's cave talk or small play, save it. Storm-boy's got enough on his plate without your riddles."
Vexa's lips curved.
Her fangs peeking in a grin that never touched her eyes. She leaned against a fern, the light catching on her hides in a way that felt more distraction than accident.
"Riddles? Just facts, wolf-girl. Pack's buzzing about the new mark. And that glow in his eyes?" Her gaze flicked to Saul, lingering on the faint swirl under his medicine. "Not pack magic. Something… else, something unnatural, the cave could sharpen it. Or break it. Your call."
The mark itched in response, heat crawling under his skin as the system hummed faint and alive. But Saul wasn't about to play fox games, not with Lira's warmth still lingering against him like a unspeakable bond.
"Appreciate the tip," he said smoothly, voice dipping back into that CEO calm. "But I'm not chasing shadows till I can walk straight. Rain check?"
Vexa's laugh rolled like soft thunder, low and taunting. "Rain? In this jungle? Bold, storm-boy. Dawn, then. East trail. Don't keep a fox waiting."
And just like that, she melted back into the green tail the last thing to fade, leaving the air thicker than before.
Lira let out a slow breath, tension bleeding from her shoulders. "She's trouble wrapped in silk," she muttered. "Always sniffing borders, real or not. Ignore her for now, we have lots on our plates now, so lets move one piece at a time."
Saul nodded, tossing the half-eaten root aside. "Noted, mam. But that cave… it might be useful. Or a trap." His aura sense still echoed the fox's words, faint green threads of mischief curling behind them. No lie, but no trust either. Not yet.
"Come on." Lira linked her arm through his, tugging gently. Her fur brushed his skin, warm and soft, grounding him again. "Let's walk the village. Clear your head. You can't brood in furs all day."
The yard opened into Shadow fang's cluster of huts, sunlight spilling between reed roofs and smoke rising from cookfires. Children chased glow bugs with sticks that sparked tiny trails of light. Warriors sharpened spears, women hauled water in carved gourds, and laughter drifted through it all, rough and real, the kind his old world only faked.
Every scent hit honest with the smell of roasted meats, crushed leaves, the faint musk of sweat and living things. Here, nothing hid behind glass or polish.
Lira stayed close, hip bumping his as they walked. "Your world of deals sounds cold," she said, a teasing curl in her voice. "All ink and stares. Ours burns hot. One touch and you know if it's real."
He looked down at her — at how sunlight turned her eyes to molten gold, soft fire licking at the edges. "Hot, huh? Try merger meetings at dawn. Sharks in suits. One wrong word and you're chum. Worse than your howls."
She laughed, a deep, playful sound. "Howls? That's music, storm-boy. Calls the pack home."Her thumb traced a slow circle on his arm, sending sparks crawling up his skin. "You could learn. Loosen that foreign knot in your chest."
He dropped his hand to her waist, pulling her closer as the path narrowed. "Loosen up? Sure. But howling? I'd sound like a CEO at karaoke — off-key and overpaid."
Her tail flicked against his leg, a soft, teasing whip. "Off-key beats silent. Come on. Try."
Before he could protest, she tilted her head back and let out a short, throaty howl — low, melodic, rolling through the huts like a call to the wild. Heads turned, but no mockery came. Only grins, nods, echoes of pack.
Saul sighed, half-laughing. "Fine. But if they laugh, you owe me breakfast."
He threw his head back and let out the weakest "Awooo…" imaginable, voice cracking midway. The village froze for a beat. Then laughter erupted everywhere — bright and full. Lira doubled over, clutching his arm, tears shining in her eyes.
"Gods," she wheezed, "that's… that's a drowned cub! Do it again!"
"Never," he said, but he was laughing too, the tension in his chest breaking apart like old chains. Her joy was contagious, wild and warm, and for the first time in forever, he didn't feel hollow.
They turned down a bend into the market square — a circle of stalls under woven awnings. Traders bartered hides for beads; fruits gleamed wet from morning dew. The air was thick with scents: sweet berries, sharp herbs, smoked fish curling from spits.
Lira guided him to a stall piled with herbs. "Two bundles, Mira. The good feverleaf."
While the lynx-eared vendor worked, Saul's system pinged softly in his head:
[Daily Mission Unlocked: Scan 5 Jungle Items. Reward: +20 BP. Failure: Stamina Drain.]
BP. Bond Points. He'd noticed the shift last night — the old label, Lust Points, flickering out. Lust had fueled the jet's heat, the ambition, the emptiness. But bonds? That felt different. Grounded. Earned. The system wasn't feeding his hunger anymore; it was teaching him how to stay alive.
He focused on a cluster of red berries nearby. [Scan: Bloodberries — Healing pulp, +4 BP.] A faint green aura lifted off them like steam, cool and sharp, sinking into his skin. His pulse steadied; breath came easier.
Lira's ear twitched. "Talking to ghosts again? That blue flicker's back."
"Just inventory," he said, bumping her hip. "These berries? Fix hangovers. Maybe broken egos."
She snatched one and popped it between her teeth, lips staining red. Leaning in close, she whispered against his ear, "Taste?" And before he could speak, she pressed the berry to his lips, fingers lingering, eyes locking.
The fruit burst tart and sweet, her thumb brushing his chin as she drew back."Sweet," he murmured, voice rough. "But not as much as the company."
Mira cleared her throat, whiskers twitching in amusement. "You two done marking territory? Five shells."
Lira tossed the payment without looking away. "Keep walking, storm-boy. Before you start scanning me."
They moved through the stalls, Saul's system humming in rhythm. [Scan: Scout Tusk — Direction charm, +4 BP. Total: 19/100.] The aura deepened, a cool thread of stamina winding through him. By the fifth scan, the air shimmered faintly around his vision — [Twist-vines: Energy conductor, +4 BP. Total: 23/100.] — and the mission ticked complete.
But mid-scan, the crash hit him like a hammer. The memory surged: the jet's shriek, Juvia's eyes glinting with betrayal, the plunge into black water. Pressure crushed his lungs. The world spun. The market tilted.
"Saul?" Lira's voice cut through, sharp and steady. She grabbed his shoulders, claws light but grounding. "Hey. Whatever drowned you, we pull you up. Breathe."
He gasped raggedly, her palm firm over his chest where the mark throbbed. The aura sense bloomed between them — her worry glowing gold, wrapping around his panic like a lifeline. His shaking slowed.
"Sorry," he breathed. "Ghosts. The fall. Felt it again."
She didn't speak. Just pulled him close, holding until the tremor eased. Around them, the pack didn't stare — they understood."Ghosts lie," she murmured finally, lips near his hair. "You're on shore now. Let 'em sink."
He pulled back slowly, her faith solid in his chest, patching cracks he hadn't realized still bled. "Thanks," he said softly. "For the pull-up."
She smiled, thumb brushing the sweat from his brow. "Anytime, storm-boy. And that glow in your veins? Storm's waking."
Before he could answer, a crash echoed near the square. Rorik barreled in — all muscle and scars — axe slung over his shoulder like it was weightless. Mud streaked his fur, eyes blazing. "Saw a boar track! Fresh! Those tusk-freaks owe me a leg. Next time, axe to the snout!"
He flexed dramatically — and tripped over a root.
Down he went, face-first into the dirt with a thud that sent berries scattering. The crowd howled with laughter.
Saul bit back a grin and offered a hand. "Impressive entrance. If roots were the enemy, you'd be alpha by lunch."
Rorik spat mud, then broke into a booming laugh. "Roots! Sneaky bastards. Worse than boars." He clapped Saul's shoulder so hard it rattled. "Heard you took the mark clean. Respect, storm-boy." Then, eyeing Lira, he smirked. "She got you leashed already? Smart pup."
Lira growled, smacking his arm. "Leash? Keep dreaming, mud-brain. Go chase your ghosts."
Rorik just laughed, hoisting his axe. "Dawn patrol! Join if you've got guts, city-wolf!"And he was gone, still chuckling to himself.
The market settled again, but Saul's grin stayed. Lira slipped her arm back through his. "See? Pack life. Laughs and bruises included."
"Yeah," he said, the system humming quietly.
[Mission Complete: +20 BP. Total: 43/100. Stamina Echo Unlocked — +10% Endurance. Stacks with Bonds.]
Bonds. Real ones.It felt… right.
They wandered further, teasing and trading barbs, her tail brushing his leg just enough to keep the air charged. By the time the sun stood high, he could almost forget the crash. Almost.
Then, from the crowd's edge, came the whisper — cool and sly.
"Cave's glow calls, storm-boy. Unless silver eyes beat you there first."
Saul froze. Silver eyes?The aura sense spiked — cold, distant, and closing in fast. Something was coming. Not Vexa. Not friendly. Something snake-tied, heavy with intent.
Lira caught the shift in his face, her tail going still. "What is it?"
He stared toward the jungle's edge, where the light bent strange through the leaves."Trouble," he said softly. "And it's hunting early."