A dusty sign creaked in the breeze outside the Ramshackle Haven, a bar poised at the edge of a human settlement near the werewolf territories. Flickering lanterns revealed chipped paint and splintered wood, yet inside, lively laughter mingled with the clank of cups and the dull murmur of music. Curiosity often drove bored travelers and bold wolves alike to this dimly lit refuge, where drinks drowned caution, and the lines between mortal and lycan blurred under flickering candlelight.
Aria slipped in with her hood pulled low, leaning into the bar’s smoky air. Even here, at the boundary of all she’d known, whispers of her growing reputation might still follow. To her relief, no one turned to gawk. Instead, a few patrons were caught up in drunken stories or private meetings under the low cei
