The rain poured heavily as Gray's voice carried through the storm, guiding his followers with firm instruction. Despite the weather's chaos, his focus never wavered. Yet, as if drawn by instinct, his sharp eyes darted toward a cabin window. There, partially obscured by the frame, was Paddy, the centaur—his supposed wife.
Her presence wasn't exactly subtle; she didn't try to hide that she was watching. Her arms crossed over her chest, and a frown settled on her face as she observed Gray's unorthodox teaching methods.
If this had been before she'd seen what he and his followers were capable of, Paddy was certain she would've stormed out and smacked him across the face for being so reckless.
