POV: DelphThe council hall buzzed with voices, the sound thick as smoke. The stone walls, freshly rebuilt, still smelled of dust and oil, but already the chamber brimmed with arguments. Wolves debated border routes, trade rights, reconstruction plans. Scrolls littered the great table like fallen leaves.Delph sat at the head, shoulders squared, hands clasped. His eyes tracked the lips moving, the gesturing claws, the words spilling like rain. But his mind… his mind was far away.He had dreamed of this peace once. Dreamed of an end to the blood and moonfire.Yet now that it was here, peace felt heavier than war.He glanced around the table. The council he rebuilt, wolves who had fought, bled, and survived, were now turning into bureaucrats. They meant well, but the energy had changed. It was no longer about survival. It was about rules, borders, and endless talking.Corin leaned toward him, whispering with a half-grin, “You look like you’d rather be wrestling rogues in the forest than
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