The days that followed were strange.
War was coming—everyone knew it. The Council's army was marching, Lady Elara's forces were approaching, and our den had become a fortress preparing for siege. Warriors trained from dawn until dark, their grunts and the clash of practice swords echoing through the tunnels. Scouts reported daily on enemy movements, maps spread across the great hall's table with markers shifted and reshifted a dozen times. Supplies were stockpiled in every available chamber—dried meat, healing herbs, bandages, water casks. Escape routes were mapped, contingency plans made, evacuation protocols drilled into every den member until they could recite them in their sleep.
And yet, in the midst of all that chaos, there were moments of profound peace.
I found them in unexpecte
