Maly crouched at the forest edge, watching the figure move through the trees. A human, alone, heading toward the pack's winter range. She had seconds to choose: kill the stranger now, or wait to see what they wanted. Her brothers would smell the intruder soon. The human stopped near a structure Maly had noticed three days ago. It looked like a rabbit's den, woven from branches and vines. But rabbits didn't build shelters this large. The human ducked inside, then emerged carrying something. They walked into the open clearing and set down a plate of cooked meat. The smell hit Maly immediately—chicken, rich with gravy. The human stepped back, hands visible and empty. Maly circled downwind, silent. The human stood still, waiting. Around their neck hung a carved bone pendant, large enough to see from twenty paces. Wolves and deer ringed the edge, carved in careful detail. At the center sat a green stone. Maly recognized the hunting scenes. This human knew what a kill looked like. They knew how packs moved. The human's eyes found her through the trees. They touched the pendant, then pointed at the meat, then at themselves. Not a threat. An offering. Maly's brothers would be here in minutes. If she killed this human now, she stayed alone against the pack. If she let them live, she might gain something her brothers couldn't match—a hunter who understood the wild but thought like she did. She stepped into the clearing.