Chapter 60: The Dance Under the Moonlight
**(Third Person)**
The scouts began their sweep before midnight.
Three teams—six werewolves total—split up and moved through the southeast district of Duskmoor. They searched alleyways, side streets, loading docks, and industrial zones.
All were dressed in plain clothes, but each moved like soldiers trained for war.
The search started with the Taproot Bar.
The bartender, a burly man with silver streaks in his beard, claimed he remembered Ronan Wex and his friend clearly.
"They were here around ten," he said, voice low and cautious. "Had two pints each. Talked like usual. Didn’t see anyone strange that night."
Security footage confirmed the man’s story—Ronan had left the bar with his friend, before the latter stopped a cab and got in.
The footage also showed three shadows trailing two blocks behind Ronan, but it vanished in a blink. No scent was found, no trace of who—or what it could have been.
At the southeast block, unit 4B remained untouched. No signs of entry. No struggle.
The most promising lead came near the port district. Just before dawn, one of the scouts picked up something faint—a scent. Barely there, as if scrubbed or hidden. But it was werewolf. Familiar. Close to Ronan’s profile.