Outside, the air was sharp and wet. Puddles mirrored the flashing blue of the patrol cars. Valorian hesitated on the threshold, nose high, tasting the wind. The other dog strained at the leash, whining, but Valorian moved with patience, following a thread only he could smell, a story woven through rain and asphalt.
They crossed the parking lot, passed the ambulance bay, then the row of garbage bins where the hospital’s night smells mixed with city grime. Valorian stopped briefly beside the curb, sniffed a dark patch of soil, then turned east. “He’s got something,” the handler said. “He’s cutting across scent like it’s familiar.”