Another season has passed, and the woods of Sterling are brimming with the signs of renewal. As the first snow melts, the cold, clear lake water laps against the stone shore. I carry my medicine basket and follow the secluded path to gather the tender new shoots of mint. Not far away, the young wolves chase and leap, while Grandma Isolde and the cubs prepare pastries for the spring feast. In the distance, Alaric and the forest guards whisper to each other, and their occasional glances at me always bring a sense of reassurance.
It's been a year since that night by the lake when we faced off. My body and wolf soul have found some miraculous healing on this land. Pack Doctor used the gentlest herbs and moonlight rituals, and Alaric's unwavering company every day - my sense of direction has
