ISOLDE
The Obsidian Territory looked exactly how I thought it would. Order on the surface, strain underneath. Displaced clans from many packs worked side by side, raising Wayfarer Enclaves and clearing ground.
From a distance it almost looked calm. Up close, the effort showed in every face and every pause between words. Old grudges did not vanish just because the Luna’s power had touched them. They had only been pushed down, forced to wait.
I moved through the outer paths slowly, taking everything in. Wolves watched one another too carefully. Conversations stopped when someone new passed. Cooperation existed, but it was fragile. It needed constant pressure to hold.
I approached the Gate of Oaths with the formality expected of an envoy. My pace was steady. My posture precise. This plac
