Winter had passed, the snow melted into swollen streams, and spring had laid down its green quilt across the ridges. Six months since the signing of the Commons Charter, and the world had not burned. Instead, it had settled.
At the south trail, a new wooden sign welcomed visitors: North Ridge Commons – Please Announce Yourself. Students from the high school had painted it, their brushstrokes bright and uneven, but full of intent. Wolves, moons, leaves, and suns crowded its corners. Some drawings were clumsy, others startlingly good. Ravyn always stopped when she passed it, smiling at the care written into every color.
Deputy Kline leaned against the fence just beyond the sign, his deputy’s badge clipped to a flannel shirt. Two wolves padded beside him, tails swishing lazily. He lifted a
