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We rolled up our blankets and departed, Mr Crepsley and Gavner keeping a close eye on the trail, scouring it for signs of whoever had killed the vampire in the cave. The wolves followed us through the trees and ran beside us for a couple of hours, keeping clear of the Little People, before vanishing ahead of us into the night.
“Where are they going?” I asked.
“To hunt,” Mr Crepsley replied.
“Will they come back?”
“It would not surprise me,” he said, and, come dawn, as we were making camp, the four wolves re-appeared like ghosts out of the snow and made their beds beside and on top of us. For the second day running, I slept soundly, disturbed only by the cold nose of the cub when he snuck in under the blanket during the middle of the day to cuddle up beside me.
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