*Bram*
I sink against the stone, muscles sore from the fight, lungs still heaving from the sprint through the forest. Outside, the night is quiet. The snarls and chaos of Blue Raven have vanished. They retreated at our last stand, pushed back by Lyra’s plan in the caves–and the stubborn unity of Song Pack.
Even now, my mind drifts back to the silver she-wolf, the one guarding Kaelen with teeth bared and eyes of deep blue. She moved with a rhythm I know too well: every lunge, feint, and snap mirrored Lyra’s style so perfectly it was disorienting. I can’t tell if it was instinct or practice, but it was enough to nearly tear me apart. Every time I countered, I had to anticipate her like I would Lyra in practice, reading the subtle shifts in weight, the tilt of her head, the flare of her
