The embers of the Ancestral Moon Hunt weren't even cold before Lysander's punishment fell over us like a blizzard.First the winter grain stores were cut by thirty percent. Then the herbs for winter fevers were seized wholesale. Even our patrol rights along the Outer Reach border were pulled back under the main pack's "unified coordination," along with an announcement that they would be sending inspectors to audit our supplies.He wanted revenge. He wanted to make me crawl."If this keeps up, the people won't survive the winter," The people’s voices were laced with anxiety.I just shook my head.Well before the Moon Hunt, under the cover of reviewing old tribute accounts, I'd mapped every supply line the Outer Reach had. What the main pack thought it controlled — the grain routes, the herb routes — I'd already quietly taken hold of. As long as we had coin, we'd make it through."Pass the word. Give thirty percent of the stored grain to the elderly, the women, and the children. Move the
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