By dealing with Valhale elders from a young age, Esme was already accustomed to handling people like them—those who circled like sharks, ready to devour any sign of weakness. In comparison, these Aron elders were nothing; they were like children before the seasoned leaders she had faced. Esme had grown up learning how to stand her ground, and now, she carried that same air of command as she settled into the corner of the room.
"So, what brings you here?" she asked, her voice sharp yet calm, eyes scanning the group. The youngest elder, hesitant but emboldened by the silence, began to speak. "As we mentioned earlier—"
But Esme raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence, her gaze narrowing. "Enough!" Her voice echoed, firm and unapologetic. "I'm not here for your excuses or your jokes. Tell me the *real* reason you've come."
The room went still, the tension thick as the elders exchanged uneasy glances. They knew then that Esme wasn't someone they could toy with.
