Kai POV
The packhouse training yard basks in the golden embrace of the late afternoon sun. The air is crisp, heavy with the tang of trampled grass and the faint metallic bite of steel from the racks of practice blades lining the wooden fence. The ground is packed dirt, scarred and uneven from countless spars. In the distance, the lake shimmers like a silver mirror under the waxing moon’s early rise—a constant, mocking reminder of the blood moon ticking closer. Its crimson promise is the key to Liora’s curse, and the deadline hanging over all our heads.
Around the yard, the pack goes about their drills. Scattered warriors move in synchronized pairs, their grunts of exertion mixing with the sharp clack of wood and steel. Near the porch, a pile of pups tumbles over each other in mock fight
