Adam's Hunter's Tri-Sense—smell, vibration, and psionic echo—flared a warning even before the soft scuff of boots on stone became audible. He raised his head, his galactic eyes narrowing. The pleasant, post-meal calm evaporated.
"We've got company," he broadcast, his mental voice cutting through the contented silence. "Approaching from the eastern tunnel network. Multiple figures. Cautious. Coordinated."
A collective wave of annoyance rippled through his companions. They'd just relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages.
«Can't we ever have a peaceful meal?» Alice grumbled, rising to her paws, her void-tinged fur bristling slightly.
Ignis pouted, licking the last of the bird's flavor from her snout. «Are they more of those dusty munchers?»
"No," Adam said, focusing his senses. "The footfalls are too coordinated, The formation is tight. This isn't monster behavior." A slow, predatory smile touched his features. "It's humans."
