The Federation's first year was chaos. Beautiful, frustrating, transformative chaos.
Two hundred packs suddenly trying to coordinate under a single charter meant endless meetings, disputes, and negotiations. Celeste, as High Guardian, found herself mediating conflicts she'd never imagined.
"Three packs are fighting over fishing rights on a shared river," she told me over breakfast one morning. "Two more are disputing territory boundaries that have been unclear for fifty years. And someone actually suggested we need a Continental Pack anthem."
"Do we need an anthem?" Kaden asked, amused.
"Absolutely not. We have enough problems without arguing about music." She rubbed her temples. "I thought being Guardian of the Binding was hard. Turns out politics is worse."
"Welcome to leadership,"
