The journey to Lang paw Mountain was slow but deliberate. We were carrying more food and supplies than I thought we would need. Honestly, I hadn’t even realized when these supplies were arranged or who had done it. The air grew colder as we pressed on, and the sky dimmed with the onset of evening. Damien led the way, his pace steady and relentless, while I kept a quiet, measured distance behind him, my mind heavy with thoughts.
As we approached a small wolf settlement nestled between the hills - the Brightmoon pack. I was struck by its simplicity. There was no grandeur here, no sprawling lands or riches. Just modest wooden houses and huts scattered across a valley, smoke curling lazily from chimneys as evening meals were prepared. Children ran barefoot across the dirt paths, laughing and
