[ Blackmoon Territories]
There was this atmosphere of perpetual gloom. Like the land had never seen sun… or happier days.
Even the skies above the pack were heavy with clouds, as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath… or tears maybe. It didn't rain. Neither did the sun come out… for some days at a stretch.
A wind swept through the courtyard of the Pack Central. It was the place mostly reserved for pack celebrations like weddings or victories…or rites of passage…seasonal blessings.
Today, it was set to be the stage for humiliation.
Gamma Kael Blackmoon was being marched across the square like a criminal, though his back was straight and eyes burned with fury.
His shirt had been torn away, exposing the raw muscle of his back, and his wrists were shackled in chains that clinked mockingly with every step… Ahhh! It literally mocked the number of times he put those chains on actual criminals.
