The tension in the air was thick, palpable, pressing down like an unseen weight.
Leo stood still, his fingers tightening around the hilt of Nightshade as he regarded the scarred man with an unreadable expression.
Behind him, Fiona and the wolves bristled, their hackles raised. A low growl rumbled from Fiona's throat, carrying a warning, one that made the air feel even heavier.
"Well?" the scarred man asked again, taking a slow step forward.
His smirk remained, but his eyes glinted with malice.
"Is what they're saying true, kid? Do you have a stash of meat back at your base?"
Leo let the question hang in the air for a moment, his calm demeanor unshaken. He tilted his head slightly, studying the man.
He noticed the way the others in the armed group shifted nervously, their hands gripping their weapons a little tighter as they waited for his response.
