The days following our encounter with Nyxar turned heavy and oppressive.
Fear settled into the pack like a thick fog that wouldn't lift. No one talked about it openly or directly. But absolutely everyone could feel it pressing down on them.
At first, the changes were small and easy to dismiss. A warrior would snap irritably at a pup for no real reason. An omega would forget to share food during communal meals, something that never happened before. Little arguments broke out over nothing important. Words became sharp and cutting where they used to be kind.
Then the problems grew bigger and more concerning. Two warriors who had been friends for years suddenly argued violently over patrol assignments. It escalated to fists and blood before anyone could stop them. Drake had to physically break up the fight. Afterward, their eyes looked cold and distant, like something fundamental inside them had changed.
