“Hold!” the sergeant called, when after three paces, he realized that the girl had not followed.
“Last chance,” he told her, and waited a beat. Then another. He had just turned on his heel to resume his march when the howls sprang up. Not close, well beyond the borders of the housing bloc’s grove. But not so far away that a loping run wouldn’t see them breaking through the trees in less than a stretch’s turnover.