Silvyr Hallowen

Alpha Jareth sits behind his heavy desk, the tension in the room pressing like a storm cloud as he meets with the pack’s elders.

Elder Maturin, his silver hair neatly tied back, clears his throat deliberately, breaking the heavy silence. “Alpha, we can’t turn a blind eye any longer. Trade along our routes is slowing dramatically, and just last quarter, we lost three merchants to Lunar Talon alone.” His words carry weight, and his stern look ...