Aldric
The night we left Høtenheim, the sky bled red.
I remember it still—the tension thrumming through the stone streets, the way the cold air bit into my fur as I stood at the gates beside him. We shifted with the fierce howl of King Edward, ready to plunge into battle.
No speeches. No farewells.
Only the knowledge that if we returned, we would return as conquerors... or not at all.
We ran under the blood moon sky, a silent army of wolves streaking across the frozen earth, the scent of war already thick in our lungs. He led at the front, as always—a massive beast, power rippling beneath his pelt, each step hammering the ground like a promise. I ran a breath behind him, matching his strides, feeling the old fire roar in my veins.
Castleburg waited for us beyond the forest and ice.
