The period after destroying the Ferrowind message was remarkably silent.
Too silent.
It was the sort of silence that hung too long, like a breath suspended underwater. The type of silence that conveyed the presence of unseen watchers. The Silverpine wolves had come to differentiate that quiet, not as stillness, but waiting. And it made them more dangerous.
Mia remained at the eastern watchtower, looking at the border paths where patrols had started to come through twice as frequently. The forests were exquisite; the gentle breezes bending the trees' branches gave the illusion of them creaking like old bones. Thick strands of sunlight poured through the trees, as if the forest was only willing to give out light in bits and pieces.
When Lucas came closer, Mia did not say anything. Instead, she passed on a folded letter to him which had recently come in from a Glenshadow messenger. Watching her husband read it, the agitation growing within him was evident.
"Another scout team," he said. "Missing. No signs. No blood. Just… gone."
Mia nodded. "That's three in two weeks."
"They're creating fear through subtraction," he murmured. "Not by what they do, but by what they take."
"They're quieting the forest," Mia added. "And hoping we'll fill in the blanks with panic."
Lucas folded the message, slipping it into the inner pocket of his cloak. "It's working on some."
She didn't have to ask who. She already knew the answer. Some of the outer ring wolves, recently bonded or newly joined, were beginning to feel anxious. Even some in the Defense Circle had started questioning whether they were truly ready to confront the beings who moved like shadows and struck without sound.
But the enemy was not fear.
Surrender was what would doom them.
Mia began to meander to the training field. "Today, I think is the first day in a long time we have to teach our wolves a different type of defense."
Towards the middle of spring, as the trees were blossoming, Mia prepared herself for two dozen wolves. There were omegas, betas, and even two elders who looked a little confused. Everyone present was certainly on the edge. Cade was sitting on a nearby tree with his arms crossed, and Ember had a mischievous look on her face as she stood to the back.
"Many of you have trained your bodies," she started to say, "you have learned some of the most basic forms like stances and strikes. You have also participated in drills that aimed to make your legs give out and lungs burn."
Her comrades began to lightly disagree.
"Because the Ferrowind packs are bordered with horns and banners. There are no bloodcurdling roars. It is an unbothered win before lifting a blade."
Mia trained them with no weapons and waited for opposition. With full focus eyes, she reiterated her statement.
"To face them head-on, we need more than sharpened claws. We need clarity."
She indicated the direction of the trees. "This exercise begins now. Swords and wolf-sitting are not allowed. Only your instincts, senses, and each other."
"Ma'am," Renna raised a hand. "What exactly do we have to find?"
"Nothing that you're intending to, that is the outcome," Mia slightly smiled.
For the following two hours, she guided them through drills where they were blindfolded, movement without sight through dense foliage, and scent-based tracking without vision. Adding greater challenges—distracting markers, misleading clues, planted scent distractions.
A lot fell behind.
A good number got annoyed.
One person simply gave up and left.
Most, however, adjusted.
They started hearing differently – to the lack of sound, to the void, to the silence of exhaling air. When the session ended, most had mastered walking from the ridge to the lodge while blindfolded, mentally noting the places they knew along the route.
Cade looked out from the sidelines and muttered, "You're training them like spies," as he watched the practice.
Mia's answer was… "No. I'm training them like survivors," was calm as usual.
Ember fastened her arms across herself," We should do this every week. More if the council allows it."
Mia interjected. "Or I'll make space until they do."
That wasn't a threat, nor was it posturing. The words spoken were true and straightforward.
Mia came back to the archives that night, still remembering how the old Ferrowind symbol burned in her memory. She rifled through the scrolls, starting with the maps and ledgers and bloodline records. Eventually, she found what she was looking for.
Not a fact.
A story.
A narrative that had been mangled by years of retelling and was now a mixture of faded text and incomplete memories.
"The Ferrowind were born not of hunger, but of punishment. Wolves stripped of their lineage, cast into the shadowed lands beyond the sacred tree. Their bodies changed. Not by choice. But by exile. And in exile, they learned silence. They learned stillness. And then—they learned vengeance."
Mia traced the faded ink with her fingertip. "Not monsters," she whispered. "Just abandoned."
Lucas captured her pulse from his place at the door. "You found something."
"Maybe." She turned the scroll so he could see. "They weren't always what they are now. They were once us."
He stepped closer, brow furrowed. "You think this changes anything?"
"It changes everything," she said softly. "Because you can't kill an idea. But you can change the story behind it."
Lucas sat beside her, silent for a long time. "You want to reach them."
"I want to understand them," she corrected. "Then we decide what reaching looks like."
"You think they'll care?"
"No," she said. "But I do. And someone has to."
As the firelight flickered along the walls, Mia leaned back against the shelves of history, her body weary but her thoughts alert.
They had been trained for war.
Perhaps the greater strength lay in observing what was in shadow and learning from it, even if it wasn't to find an excuse.
This war would not be won by simply using swords and teeth, but rather in the silence that lingers between attacks.
It would be determined by whose voice would be heard in the silence.