Neo

I stand in the heart of the training grounds, my eyes sweeping across the flurry of activity. The air is thick with the scent of earth and sweat, punctuated by the soft thuds of paws striking padded targets. I watch with critical eyes as each member of my pack throws themselves into the drills, their movements a blend of instinct and precision.

"Good form," I call out to a younger wolf, his lanky form still adjusting to the weight of his own strength. He flashes me a toothy ...