Though the battlefield was quiet for now, the breeze brought the smell of coming combat, and I could feel the anxiety vibrating through our ranks. Battle-worn and tired, my wolves waited at the clearing's edge waiting for my orders.
Their faces—each a reminder of the sacrifices we had made to get at this moment—pressed the burden of leadership on me. Some had new injuries, memories of the constant fights for our existence. Others had doubtful eyes wondering whether after all we had suffered unity was indeed possible.
I knew this would set the Crescent Bloodline's future. Our capacity to stick together despite the wounds that treachery had left behind, not the triumphs we had gained or the foes we had murdered.
