SMITH
The sun was at its peak, its rays warming the earth and casting long, golden shadows across the pack compound. Carla and I walked side by side, the sound of our boots crunching against gravel mixing with the sound of activity from the training yard. Ever since the news of a rogue attacking Carla got out, the training session had intensified, but this was beside the point. Today was about Carla. I had spent days planning this picnic, hoping to give her a moment of peace after everything she’d endured.
She was walking steadily, her face glowing with the ease that had been absent for weeks. After the rogue attack, seeing her like this—strong, radiant, and herself—was all I needed to make this day worth it.
The yard ahead buzzed with life. Wolves were sparring, their grunts and laught
