The wind tore across the plain like a living thing, flattening tall grass in its wake. Dust and the sharp scent of iron filled the air long before the sound of footsteps reached the ear. Kōga arrived in a blur. One moment the horizon was empty, the next, the ground cracked beneath his feet as he skidded to a stop, claws biting into the earth. His blue eyes scanned the land with predatory precision, ears twitching as the wind shifted around him. The brown fur tied across his forehead fluttered violently, his black hair pulled tight into its familiar ponytail. A low growl vibrated in his chest, not aimed at anything in particular, but at the tension clinging to the air. Something was wrong. His tail flicked once behind him as he straightened, senses flaring. Whoever was nearby hadn’t moved yet. That alone made him wary. “Come out,” Kōga called, voice sharp and carrying easily through the wind. “I know you’re there.”