"G-Ghost Clan..." the wolf general repeated under his breath, suspicion flickering in the pause that followed.
A guarded light crept into his eye. "Mr. Chance, the beast race and the Ghost Clan share old wounds. They vanished underground for three millennia and appear now without warning, prudence is necessary."
Morvane's snort split the air. "If not for Mr. Chance's plea, do you think we longed for the surface?"
The temperature seemed to drop, muscles tightened on hilts, and for a beat the promise of violence hovered, sharp enough to taste.
Jared raised a hand, halting both sides. "With a greater enemy before us, yesterday's grudges must rest. The Ghost Clan has already agreed to fight beside me against the celestials."
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