I find her first. The rest comes into focus around her—packs, bedrolls, a few faces I half-know. Her daughter on her hip, face tucked into her neck. The strap of her pack digging into her shoulder.
She sees me coming.
"Melori."
"Petra."
"I wanted to find you before we—"
"You don't have to."
"I do." She shifts her daughter's weight. "You stayed. With us. When you didn't have to."
"Petra—"
"I won't forget that."
Her eyes are wet but the crying already happened. Somewhere I wasn't.
The little girl peeks out from behind her mother's hair. Sees me. Lifts her hand—small fingers opening and closing.
I wave back.
Keer is here. Not next to me—across the gathering,arms at his sides, watching.
A man steps out of the cluster of his family. Broad shoulders. Walks up to Keer with his chin up, hands tight at his sides, bracing.
"We're not cowards."
Keer says nothing.
"We're not." The man's voice cracks on the second word. "But I have a daughter. A son. I won't watch them—"
He stops.
The clearing has stopped breathing.
"Say something." He steps closer. "Curse us. Tell us we're abandoning the pack. Tell us we're—"
Nobody moves. Some of the wolves want Keer to call the man a coward. I can feel it.
He doesn't.
"I'm not going to stop you."
The man doesn't move. For a second I think he didn't hear it. Then his shoulders drop—all at once—and he just stands there breathing.
Keer waits. Doesn't soften it, doesn't repeat it. Just lets him have the moment to understand.
The man nods. Once. Then again, smaller, mostly to himself. Walks back to his family without a word.
Petra is already gathering the children. The boy first, hand on the back of his neck, steering him north. The daughter on her hip, still watching me. The man falls in behind them, one hand at Petra's lower back—not guiding, just touching, the way you do when you need to confirm someone's still there.
They move into the trees slow at first. Then faster, once the cover takes them.
Petra doesn't look back. The daughter does. Small fingers opening and closing over her mother's shoulder, eyes on me until the green swallows her.
I wave back until the trees take them.
