Chapter 95: Winds from the West
The first warning wasn't a blade at the throat, but a silence on the wind. The regular trade caravans from the western Timber-Fang territories, which had been bringing raw ores and rare hardwoods in exchange for prefab shelter components and medicinal fungal spores, simply stopped coming.
Finn noticed it first, monitoring the comings and goings at the fledgling trade outpost a mile from the Mountain's main gate. "The Timber-Fang factor packed up his scales three days ago," he reported in the command center, his fingers flying over a console. "Said he was 'recalled for consultations.' No replacement. The Fox-Hollow clan envoy left this morning, citing 'pressing internal matters.' The Grey-Rock badgers are still here, but they're nervous. Whispers are cheaper than bullets, but they kill deals just as dead."
