Alaric strode into the council chamber, the weight of the recent massacre heavy on his shoulders. Lady Adna and the other elders were already seated, each bearing the grim expression that mirrored his own thoughts. The hall, with its dark stone walls lined by centuries-old tapestries and symbols of past victories, seemed more oppressive today, as if even the very air was burdened by the horror of the attack. Lady Adna's gaze was unyielding, her eyes fixed on him as he approached.
"Alaric," she said, her voice carrying both authority and a hint of fatigue, "I hope you bring some understanding to the darkness that has befallen us."
Alaric nodded, drawing in a steadying breath before responding. "I've seen the aftermath, Lady Adna. The wolves' attack wasn't just brutal—it was strategic. It felt like more than a hunt, as though they were targeting the very essence of our borders, spilling blood to provoke."
