“Strange,” Dagny murmurs, her brow knitting into a frown. “I can’t say I enjoyed it. That, and now I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

“Maybe we should take a snack break?” I suggest. “That always makes me feel better.”

“You think food makes everything better,” Lir grumbles, his eyes trailing to the ceiling. “But I agree. Dagny deserves a break.”

“Lucky for you lot, I came prepared.” Cyprien bounds forward, shoving a fistful of welwig tubers into her chest. “Eat up, bunny.”

Her face pinches, but she still accepts the gift, bringing the root to her mouth and biting off a chunk with a grimace. “Ugh. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to the taste.”

“They’ll keep you nice and strong, though,” Cyprien says, reaching out to pat her head. “Much more nutritious than that human garbage.”

Dagny shoots him a teasing glare, her jaw working around a second bite. “If I could lift my arms, I’d smack you.”

I exchange a glance with Malice, alarmed by the words falling from her lips. “Maybe we should call it quits for the day.”

“No!” Dagny pouts. “I’m so close to controlling it for real!”

“Roark is right,” Fenryr says, chiming in for the first time since Dagny started her training session with Malice. “Dagny deserves a treat.”

“A treat?” Cyprien perks up, his yellow gaze swinging toward Fenryr inquisitively. “What are you thinking?”

“Perhaps a trip to the coast?” Lir suggests, his eyes glazing with a faraway look. “It’s been so long since we went there… and we could be there for the sun flip.”

“I like this idea,” Fenryr murmurs. “Malice?”

He blinks lazily, his expression giving away none of his inner thoughts. “It’s too dangerous. We could be spotted by Slaine’s troops or taken out by a wild creature… any number of things could go wrong.”

“Aw, come on!” Cyprien whines. “I want to show Dagny the perkins. You want to see the perkins, don’t you, bunny?”

She looks from Malice to Cyprien, worrying her lip. “Maybe…”

“This is a horrible idea,” he murmurs, his eyes squinting shut. “Kaebl is going to be so fucking pissed when he comes back from his hunt.”

Malice raises his head, and I watch as he crumbles beneath the weight of Dagny’s pleading expression. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”

* * *

The six of us soar through the sky, passing over the vast forest of welwigs as we shoot toward the northernmost part of the continent—where the land ends and the ocean begins. As we fly, we make sure to stay well away from Slaine’s territory, gliding above the cloud line to avoid the risk of being spotted by rogue scouts. Though the possibility is extremely low, it never hurts to take extra precautions.