I wandered about the camp, our preparations in place and our souls sharpened for the approaching onslaught. I offered little words of consolation and encouragement as I gently moved among the injured and tired. Every time I met a set of eyes, I felt the flame of allegiance that had fluttered uncertainly but now burned persistently. I reminded them that the willingness to confront fear collectively defined our strength rather than its absence.
I stopped at the edge of the camp, next to the old tree that had seen many seasons of happiness and grief, and allowed myself a little alone minute. The oak's twisted limbs reached far, its bark harsh yet comforting—a living reminder that even the strongest trees have endured many storms. Feeling the gentle pulse of its life, I pushed my fingers against it and at that moment connected with every wolf who had ever defied destiny.
