Neo

I stand firm and resolute at the center of the pack's training grounds, my eyes scanning over the flurry of activity. The air is charged with the raw energy of werewolves honing their skills—claws carving into the earth, fangs flashing under the muted sun. I anchor the chaos, a steadfast pillar amidst the storm of motion. My presence, an unspoken commandment, silences doubts and bolsters hearts. They push harder, faster, stronger under my gaze.

"Good form, Eli," I call out, ...