I don’t go back to my room straight away after the meeting, even though every part of me wants a door between myself and the rest of the pack, because the hallways feel too narrow and the air feels thick in a way that makes it hard to breathe properly, so I end up outside without consciously deciding to, my feet carrying me toward the courtyard as if fresh air might scrub the residue of that room from my skin.
The morning is cold enough that it bites through my clothes, and I hug my arms around myself while pacing the edge of the stone path, listening to the distant clang of the training grounds and the muted voices of warriors going through drills as if nothing monumental has just happened. There’s something surreal about that normalcy, about watching someone stretch their shoulders or r
