As in, without attracting undue attention to himself, being a human surrounded by hungry Dark wolves.
When Zai didn’t meet him at the outer courtyard gates at the appointed time, he tried to blend into the shadows with the two loaned steeds while he waited.
Even from this distance, he could hear the echo of furious snarls and sharp cracks of the whip. He heard the commotion later on and deduced that something had gone unexpectedly awry.
After the crowd dispersed, some of the Dark soldiers passing in his direction, he intercepted one of them, careful to maintain enough distance so that there was less likelihood they discovered that he wasn’t what he pretended to be.
“Warrior,” he called out in a low voice, gaining the soldier’s attention.
“What happened up there on the plateau? Is everything all right?”
The soldier flicked his dark eyes over Ben’s attire and the two hunter steeds, seeing only what Ben wanted him to see.
“You the tracker that came in with the other Hunter?” the soldier asked.
“Yes. I am waiting for my partner. We are on the Queen’s mission,” Ben said.
“Well, you won’t have much to hunt, most likely. And your partner won’t be meeting you any time soon.”
Ben simply stared at him to continue.
The soldier flicked his head in the plateau’s direction.
“During the demonstration, the liger broke free of its restraints and attacked the Hunter. They both went down the side of the mountain together. If the fall hasn’t killed them, your best bet is to go around to the back of the mountain and track them from there.”
Ben tipped his chin in acknowledgement, mounted one of the steeds and pulled the other alongside. He stared at the sentries guarding the outer gates in silent command to open them.
The soldiers all stared back at Ben, assessing him with narrowed eyes.
Ben held his breath, wondering if they could somehow tell that he wasn’t one of them.
A Dark One. An Immortal.
He wondered if they could sense his Pure soul even though he was still human. A lamb in wolf’s clothing.
He prayed that a breeze didn’t suddenly decide to sift through his hair and carry his human scent, aprey’s scent, to these dangerous, bloodthirsty predators.
The soldier he’d been speaking with took a step closer, eyes glinting with something that didn’t bode well for Ben—
When a streak of white shot by, stopping at the hooves of Ben’s horse, inserting itself between Ben and the Dark soldier.
A low growl emerged from the white ball of fur, and the soldier aborted his advance upon Ben.
“The royal hunting fox,” the soldier recognized, then looked up at Ben atop his steed.
“I did not realize the Queen had lent it to you.”
This was news to Ben as well.
A hunting fox?
That seemed like an oxymoron. In his world, at least a couple hundred years ago, foxes were hunted. They certainly didn’thelpin hunts.
And aroyalhunting fox?
Ben peered down at the snow fox he’d seen earlier, who looked up at him with shrewd black eyes, its small mouth seemingly curled in a friendly smile, though that was probably just the way it was built.
“Aye,” Ben confirmed, clearing his throat through the blatant lie.