Alora's Windsong
I made my way back to the small stage.
I sang again, softer this time, along with the crowd—the kind of low hum that carries people safely over thresholds. I sang our pack theme song, and they all joined in, with voices that would make angels blush.
When the final chord faded, the cheers rose once more, then scattered into laughter, plates, and promises to meet tomorrow. Lanterns winked out one by one. The carousel slowed to a smooth stop, its lights dimmed.
As we began to break down tables, a pair of ward-bells at the far edge rang once—clear, bright, and then quiet, the exact tone of a boundary greeting a friend.
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