Lyra POVThe forest woke slowly, a tentative hush stretching between the skeletal branches of early spring trees and the damp earth beneath them. Mist lingered low in the hollows, curling around roots and rocks like fingers of memory, shadows reaching across the soft moss and scattered leaves. Lyra moved carefully, boots crunching softly on the undergrowth, each step deliberate, aware of every texture beneath her soles. Dawn did not just bring light—it brought clarity, the contrast between shadow and illumination sharpening her senses, whispering truths she might otherwise overlook. The near miss from yesterday—the sudden, sharp threat she had felt at the edge of the territory—still pulsed in her chest, a reminder that vigilance and instinct were inseparable from guidance and leadership. Fear lingered in her awareness like a ghost, but it no longer dictated her movements. Instead, it was a quiet teacher, a shadow shaping her, threading through her decisions, reminding her of what matt
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