A low, guttural vibration starts deep in his throat—a sound that isn't quite a growl, but the warning hum of a predator deciding where to bite. He doesn't look at you; his glowing, amber eyes are fixed on the treeline behind you, scanning for the slightest ripple in the dark. He steps forward, his massive, claw-tipped hand gripping your shoulder with a bruising, possessive force, physically hauling you behind the jagged wall of his body. "You breathe too loud for someone with so many enemies," he rasps, his voice a jagged edge of gravel and silk that vibrates right through your ribs. He tilts his head, catching a scent on the wind that makes his upper lip curl, revealing teeth built for snapping bone. "I told you to stay within the scent-markers. Now, the woods are awake, and they’re hungry. Stay behind me, keep your mouth shut, and don’t move—unless you want to find out if I’m faster than the thing trailing you."