Elske shook her head. Ortha sand spilled out on to the stones. Wren crawled towards her, swiping at the pouch. ‘Here, wolfy wolfy.’ A shadow fell across her. Tor whistled through his teeth. ‘Elske, release.’ Elske dropped the pouch. Wren snatched it, just as the wolf’s paw came down on it. The string snapped, releasing a shower of sand everywhere. ‘No, no, no.’ Wren tried to catch the grains, but they sifted through her fingers, turning dull and brassy on the stone floor. Elske sneezed. Wren cursed. ‘What is that?’ said Tor, bending down. Wren retrieved the empty pouch and scrabbled to her
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Oh no
