The sun was high when the elders gathered in the council hall. The long wooden table stood in the center, and carved chairs lined both sides. Torches burned on the walls, giving the room a warm glow. This was no ordinary meeting. The Feast of Moons was near—a celebration held once every year, when the whole pack came together to honor the Moon goddess. It was a time of joy, of food, of dancing, and of prayers. But it was also a time when outsiders could try to strike, for the gates were always open for guests. Damien sat at the head of the table. His eyes were calm, but firm. “Elders,” he began, “the Feast of Moons is in seven nights. We must decide how it will go. The people expect peace, but I sense dangers near.” Elder Rowan, the oldest of them all, leaned on his staff. His white beard brushed against his chest as he spoke. “Alpha, you speak true. The feast is holy, but enemies always look for holy days to strike. We must be wise.” Elder Miriam, sharp-eyed and quick to
Last Updated : 2025-09-20 Read more