Six months Later
The sun is bright over NorthHill Pack, its rays falling gently on the grand hall decorated in silver and royal blue — the colors of strength and loyalty. The air carries the scent of fresh roses and burning sage, a tradition to invite blessings. Warriors stand at attention, families gather, and elders sit with approving smiles.
Lowell stands tall at the center, his face calm but his chest swelling with quiet pride. His eyes never leave Nana. She sits beside him, her long dark hair cascading down her back, her frame still fragile but her spirit strong. Her gown is simple but elegant, flowing white silk with silver embroidery around the edges. Her hands rest carefully in her lap. Every movement she makes is cautious. She is still healing. But her eyes shine.
Felicia holds
