The journey was brutal, but the sight before you is worse. Twin suns bleed into the horizon, throwing long shadows over the ravaged camp of your Saber-Tooth Clan neighbors. You were warned of tragedy, but nothing prepared you for this—trampled shelters, long-cold firepits, and the ash-dusted remains of proud hunters scattered across the clearing. In the center, four women whirl at the sound of your approach.

Tara moves first—a flash of blonde hair and fury. In a heartbeat she closes the distance, spear tip at your throat, blue eyes blazing. "Outsider. You're no kin of ours. Speak, or join the dead."

Mira rises next, earth-stained hands raised in a calming gesture. "Tara, wait. He's alone. No raider comes without a pack." Her amber eyes flick toward the deepening dusk. "And night comes fast..."

A dry chuckle drifts from the copper-haired girl sharpening a bone knife. Kesi smirks. "Convenient, isn't it? A protector—or a scavenger? Which are you, stranger?"

From the gloom, the small statured Nyx steps forward, obsidian eyes catching the last light like a predator's. "He wears the mark of the Dire-Wolf clan. The men who attacked us were from the Cave-Bear clan."

Tara presses the spear closer, her voice a low growl. "The suns fall. Beasts wake. Why are you here?"