He glanced to his right and saw a single flower clinging to the ridge of the gorge. Its leaves and petals were small but bent up towards the sun. How a flower of any kind could survive out here with what appeared to be a complete lack of water was beyond him. He reached out and touched the petals gently; letting a part of him flow into the flower and by extension the earth it was growing from as well.

  Acharya focused on the flower as it grew a little in size on the surface, its petals broadening and flexing toward the fading sunlight. The majority of the changes happened below the surface. Being a Sage, he could give part of his energy to other living things. In doing so, the flowers roots grew stronger and deeper and were able to take in more of the moisture from the surrounding soil.

  When Acharya broke contact with the flower it was brighter, stronger, and so long as some asshole didn’t come by and rip it out of the earth, it would be a strong life for years to come. He smiled, raising his head up letting his features bathe in the waning sunlight just like the flower was doing. He smiled a genuine smile of warm and happiness, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed, in a weary world,” he muttered to himself.

  Of course, giving part of himself to the plant meant that he no longer had that small part of his strength or endurance. He felt a wave of weariness and fatigue wash over him. He blinked hard and shook his head as he almost counterbalanced off the gorge wall that he was now perched on. Teetering wildly, he grasped the rock wall and held tight, waiting for the wave of dizziness and fatigue to wash over him and leave, which it did but far too slowly for his liking.

  Aiman was right, he was just as tired as everybody else. But he couldn’t let them know that. Their safety was his responsibility. He wouldn’t let anyone do anything that he wouldn’t be willing to do first. That included taking first watch.

  He scanned the horizon of the landscape. He stretched his senses to take in everything he could, sight, scents, sounds, if his sense of taste had been more reptilian, he would have licked and tasted the air for any indication of danger. They were outsiders here, which meant that whatever side the soldiers they may run into said they were on, all sides were against them. Maybe if he was white, it would have made a difference? He smiled at his joke in poor taste. If anything, being white might make them a hated target to be hunted, rather than just a small group of mostly brown people who might make good soldiers or slaves. He was starting to hate the mentality of these so-called soldiers and their tactics.

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  The platoon of grenadiers that they had eluded didn’t come back. Nor did Acharya see or sense any other soldiers from anywhere. When the sun finally set, he let himself slide down back to the bottom of the gorge and roused his pack. He was tired, he could use a few hours rest as well, but if they were found in this gorge, they would be sitting ducks for any armed soldiers.

  All six of them shifted into their werewolf forms and clawed their way up the gorge and continued on their journey east. They could see the distant explosions of a fight that was happening only a few miles away. The explosions lit up the skyline like a late sunrise. They could make out the low ruble of equipment or explosives blowing up. They kept low, moving along the various small patched of foliage here and there.

  With the fighting in the distance, hunting would be bad tonight but they wouldn’t know unless they tried. Acharya gave the signal and Asclepius bounded forward, sweeping out to either side of the group, his nose to the ground as he tried to pick up any sign of prey.

  He stopped and jerked his head up and to the right. Asclepius darted off to the south, the rest of the pack followed. They were running on all fours trying to keep up with their wolf born pack mate.

  Malikah nodded in the direction they were going as she said quietly to the rest of the pack, “He’s picked up the scent of a herd of antelope.” She tasted the air with her nose, “And also water.” Malikah didn’t know if Asclepius knew there was water before she said anything. Being the pack’s tracker, she had the best sense of smell in the pack. However, she usually deferred to Asclepius as a tracker of prey, he knew how to read the ground in ways that she was sure she would never fully understand.

  Asclepius skidded to a stop and turned sharply to the east again, the rest of the pack followed suit. They were close; Malikah motioned for silence as they gathered around in a tight circle. The herd was at a small watering hole maybe three quarters of a mile away. Even with their werewolf sight they couldn’t see them yet, and they were downwind from their prey, they had a bit of leeway to plan their attack.

  Asclepius drew a pond and some marks for where he thought the herd was in the hard dirt with his claw. Malikah nodded in agreement, she couldn’t find any fault in the assumption, since they were downwind of their prey her very sensitive nose could smell hints of water mixed with the herds sweat and apprehension at the far away explosions that were very strange to them. Those explosions would make them very on edge; the first hint of danger would cause them to scatter.

  Acharya then drew lines on the ground pointing to each pack member and a corresponding line. Mary and Acharya would go directly towards the waterhole from their current location. Malikah and Aiman would cut to the west then south and encircle them, while Tara and Asclepius would wind around from the east and then south and encircle them from that direction.