"The strength of an Alpha isn't just in the roar that shakes the world, it's in the quiet bond that holds the pack together when all else falls apart."
The escape of Vorath was a shattering blow, leaving behind an echoing silence in Velmoraeth that felt heavier than a thousand-ton stone. We stood before the Altar of the First Law, the air still acrid with the faint, metallic scent of the breach Vorath had torn into existence.
But the confusion was brief, cut short by the absolute priority declared by the Moon Goddess: the altar had to be cleansed. We couldn't hunt a phantom while the very foundation of the Law of the Pack was corrupted and leaking chaos.
Alaric moved first, his immense frame radiating a cold, focused determination that eclipsed the shock of the failure. He didn't rage; he simply shifted his immense Alpha energy from hunting to healing.
