Volk's voice echoed again, desperation lacing his words as he screamed, "WAIIIIIIITTTTT!"
His throat felt raw, and his breath came in harsh gasps, hoping to catch their attention, but his pleas were drowned out by the sounds of the marching Orcs and Elves.
The clan was on the move, and no one paid him any mind, no one seemed to care about his shout.
Beside him, Solluha'r, her brow furrowed in concern, reached out to grip her husband's arm. "Volk, what's going on?" she asked, her voice low yet insistent. Her violet eyes searched his face, seeing the turmoil written across it.
"There's a traitor," Volk muttered, almost to himself, the weight of the accusation pressing down on his chest. His heart thudded heavily against his ribcage.
Solluha'r's sharp ears picked up his words instantly, and she stiffened.