“Thank you for coming,” she said when I reached her.
“You said you had something she wore.”
Zoey held out a scarf and a small glove, her fingers tightening around the fabric. I took them carefully. The moment the scent reached me, the rest of the world faded to the background.
Small human. Soap. Dirt. A faint trace of something sweet from whatever snack she had eaten earlier.
The wolf inside me stirred immediately, alert and focused.
Zoey studied my face while I worked through the scent. “Can you track her?”
“Yes.” I handed the items back to her. “Stay here.”
Zoey closed her eyes in tentative relief. “Just bring her back.”
I held her gaze. “I will,” I said, then I stepped off the path and moved deeper into the trees.
The shift came easily.
Bones moved. Muscles rearranged. The familiar transformation settled across my body in a practiced motion that took only seconds.
The forest sharpened, every scent separating into clear lines.
Damp earth. Moss. Pine needles. The faint trace of animals moving through the underbrush earlier that evening.
And beneath it all, Bobbi.
The trail started near the canal path but quickly moved away from the water. That alone eased some of my worry.
She’d gone into the woods, not toward the edge.
The scent moved steadily between the trees, wandering but not entirely directionless. I followed it carefully, keeping my pace.
Tracking required focus. If I moved too fast, the trail blurred. Too slow, and the scent would fade.
Branches brushed my shoulders as I moved through the forest. The ground shifted from packed dirt to soft leaves and back again. In the distance, someone called Bobbi’s name again.
She had traveled farther than I expected.
The scent strengthened briefly near a fallen log where she had likely stopped before continuing. Small footprints marked the soft soil nearby.
She had climbed over the log, then continued north.
I picked up my pace slightly.
The trail curved away from the main residential area and deeper into the wooded land beyond the canal.
Concern tightened through my chest.
Bobbi might be curious and clever, but she was still a small child alone in unfamiliar terrain.
The scent grew stronger again. It was fresh and recent.
I slowed automatically, then another scent entered the space.
Wild dogs. Two of them.
Their smell cut through the underbrush. Immediately, every instinct in my body sharpened.
