Silas stood close by, too close. He’d crept up behind Orek silently, a mark of why he was the clan’s best tracker. He was tall, like all orcs, but he didn’t have the breadth of most. Instead, there was a ranginess to him, a lean strength Orek saw in starving wolves during long winters. Creatures that were always hungry with nothing to lose. Silas had such a gleam in his eye, like he’d swallow anything whole if it came too close.
