“I am Logan, chieftain of the Silvermane tribe!” His voice thundered through the air, sending a chill down Surshen's spine. Logan's cold gaze pierced through Surshen, making him feel as though he were trapped in a winter storm.
Surshen struggled to maintain his composure. ‘‘Chieftain of the Silvermane Tribe?’’ The very name sent ripples of fear through him. Why would such a powerful figure set foot in their modest Duskin Tribe? The intensity of Logan's presence felt almost suffocating.
Kule stood nearby, equally shaken. The sheer force radiating from Logan was overwhelming, leaving them both in awe. ‘‘What kind of strength does this young chieftain possess?’’ Kule thought, his heart racing.