The moon rose higher in the sky each night, edging closer to the phase Mia both anticipated and feared-- the new moon, the shapeless void. The moment Coren foretold. The moment the Ferrowind would emerge not as the watchers, but as enemies.
Silverpine had prepared for change. Life's once peaceful and warm rhythms now bore a sense of readiness for something. Training drills no longer ceased at nightfall. Food prep started yielding to time constraints. The rest became less deep. Each movement, each howl, each breath held a question without an answer.
With a wordless glance, each Wolf formed a column on the shifted defense lines surrounding four cardinal serpent-shaped walls with a turret-like structure, which served as the central throne overlooking both sandmap and beasts. Moving about the edge of the map, Mia felt their eyes upon her, her elbow resting on the top of the frame, imagination formulating fresh views.
Lucas stepped forward and gently clasped the jaws near his articulated wrist to say something to the remaining warriors as they began collecting back.
"Ferrowind scouts are confirmed to have a cluster north along the gulch." There was a pause in his speech. "Far enough to be cautious. Close enough to be ready."
Mia didn't flinch. "That's how it seems, yes."
"Very faintly, Lucas nodded." It appears you were correct. They aren't concealing their movements anymore."
"In fact," She occupied her thoughts while delicately drawing patterns in the sand. "They aren't attempting to off-balance us or catch us by surprise. They are trying to unsettle us. Disable our rhythm."
"So we won't allow them."
"We won't." Came Mia's gaze upward.
"No, we won't." She appeared unbothered while stubborn voice was heavily nasal. The phrase gave up implies abundant context of standing somewhere one can't simply withdraw from without serious consequences.
Outside, the air was crisp. Late spring had brought longer days, but the wind still held traces of mountain chill. Mia found Ember by the healer's lodge, checking the supply stockpile.
"They're nervous," Ember said without turning. "Even the elders."
"They should be," Mia replied.
"Not because of the Ferrowind," Ember clarified. "Because of what you're becoming."
"It's because of what you're turning into."
Mia lifted her brows. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Ember turned to her, "You're not just leading anymore. You're becoming the symbol of hope they can't survive without. It's beautiful. And dangerous."
Mia took a deep breath. "That was never my intention."
"I know. That's what makes it true."
Both of them continued down the path, lost in their thoughts, listening to the sound of small pine needles scattered beneath them.
"Do you believe they will break through?" Mia questioned.
"I think they'll try," Ember said. "And I think they'll regret it.
That evening, when the moon was fully out, a still ritual for the wolves was held under the Moonstone Tree. These were not for battle or mourning, rather for intent – a rare ritual marked by silence once performed by the wolves when Mia was still a child, where wolves made offerings to the land and past while sealing their offering with a pledge only they could hear.
Bit by bit, wolves began to emerge from the woods, kneeling beneath the Moonstone Tree as they placed engravings of their personal stories into the triangle roots: part of a claim stakeblade, torn pages of banishment papers, locks of hair, and bone pendants.
Mia took her time to stand last.
She had a ribbon, unadorned in the color of gray linen, which once adorned her mother's braid. It was an artifact that she had kept for years without truly knowing the intention behind it.
Now, she did.
She knelt and placed it delicately at the roots of the tree, not uttering a prayer, but a vow instead.
"I will not turn into what you dreaded, Mother. I shall turn into what you wish."
When rising, she did not feel any lighter, but instead, she felt aligned.
While the rest of the pack returned to their dens, the lodge remained lit. Inside, the Unified Council had gathered for a last meeting before the battle.
"We will require rotating watchpoints on all four ridges," Cade said as he adjusted the pieces on the board. "Night shifts start tomorrow."
"Supply lines under the mountain pass have been secured," Ember added. "Glenshadow sent us three supply carts and two medics. No banners, silent allegiance."
Cade's gaze shifted toward Mia, who was slouched at the other end of the table. "Do we place forward scouts in Ferrowind territory?"
The council made noises of agreement.
Mia held back until all eyes left her.
"No," she answered. "They wait for tagging. If we move first, we provide a reason for them to strike harder. We stand still. We are visible. But not in a hostile way."
Vance grimaced. "You think restraint is going to prevent a war?"
"No," Mia replied, unflustered. "I trust it will demonstrate that we are not frightened of one."
And with that, the approach was strategized.
_____________________
Mia remained in the now-empty council chamber after the meeting. Soft light glinted off the rune-carved floor as the dying fire cast its warmth through the room. She approached the window, taking hold of her cloak to squeeze it tighter about her shoulders.
Quietly, Lucas approached her.
"You never take the opportunity to rest," he noted.
"I'll rest when I feel it's earned," was her reply, as she turned back to him.
He regarded her for a moment, then stepped closer.
"You overexert yourself."
"I have always carried my share."
"Not now," he said, pulling her hand. "You don't have to do it all by yourself."
Mia captured his gaze. Not in thanks, but in comprehension.
"I know."
Somehow, that was more than enough.
________________________________________________________________________
Far away from Silverpine, buried deep within a glacial cavern, Coren stood before his circle.
"He said, his voice deep and whisper quiet, 'The new moon comes.' Walkers' Silverpine has its rituals and ghosts. Let them be. We carry no ghosts. We are not bound by history or a name."
All the other Ferrowinds Wolf Warriors surrounding him were still, their gaze shimmering faintly in the shimmering blue cold.
Coren raised his hand. "They remember who they were. We're going to tell them who they need to be."
The yell that came next wasn't from anger.
It was a call from judgment.