From my vantage point, the Luna Association urgency was palpable. An emergency meeting of the Lunas had been summoned, gathering us from far and wide. As Luna, my responsibilities extended beyond the confines of our pack, transcending borders and alliances. This call was different; it wasn't about territorial disputes or diplomatic entanglements. It was about the autistic children.
The Luna Association, a beacon of hope, had been diligently working to carve out a sanctuary for those most vulnerable among us – the autistic children and the ones who had lost their parents, left adrift in a world they scarcely understood. Our hearts were bound to their well-being, their futures a shared responsibility.
But the fabric of our hopes had been torn asunder by an act of malice. Rogues, those who
