Veyra collapsed onto the snow with a long exhale, her body sprawled out as though the icy ground itself was a welcome bed.
Across the clearing lay multiple bowls brimming with neatly cut portions of wolf meat, each one stacked and ready.
The sheer volume of them was staggering.
They had spent the better part of an hour hacking, skinning, and separating the carcasses left behind by the battle.
Despite her efforts, she knew the truth: Azel had done most of the work.
His movements with the bone knife were clean and precise, almost unnervingly efficient for someone who had only recently joined them.
He was already sucking the last of the meat and hides into his storage ring, the strange piece of magical equipment swallowing up their hard-earned spoils in a shimmer of light.
She hated to admit it, but it was… convenient.
More convenient than anything she or the other members of the Furious five had ever managed.
Normally, this duty had fallen on her and Julius.
