LOGINIf someone is watching from the trees, they see all of it.They see no fear. No dominance games. No rehearsed hierarchy snapping into place the moment an outsider might be near. They see a space that does not tighten when observed. A group that does not flinch when attention brushes against it.At m
I wake before the light, the way my body still prefers it.The habit never left. It does not feel like vigilance anymore. It feels like alignment. I open my eyes to darkness that is already thinning, the edges of the room just beginning to separate from one another. The cabin is still. Even the boar
It did not.Leadership, I learned, is not about being central.It is about knowing when to step forward.And knowing when to step away.Ben shifts his weight, stretching his neck like he always does when he has been standing still too long. “Council sent a message yesterday.”I glance at him. “What
A year later, I stand on a ridge at dawn and let the cold air bite my lungs.It is the same kind of cold it always was. Clean. Sharp. Honest. It strips everything unnecessary away and leaves only what is real. I breathe it in slow and steady, counting without meaning to, feeling my boots settle into
I tell them yes.There is no authority attached to it. No expectation that they listen because I outrank them. If they want to leave, they leave. If they disagree, we talk it through or move on. Training without command feels strange at first. Lighter. Slower. More honest.I correct one of them mid-
The quiet does not arrive all at once.It seeps in.The first thing I notice is what does not happen. No alert buzzing my tablet at dawn. No layered messages waiting to be sorted by urgency. No courier requests marked immediate, no council updates phrased like favors. I wake up to light instead of o







