The path of diplomacy

KELLY THOMPSON'S POV

The moon hung low, a silent witness to the tension that crackled like static in the chilled air of the North pack territory. Alpha Biansky and I stood yards apart, our packs flanking us like living walls bristling with fur and fangs. The scent of pine and impending violence mingled, setting the stage for the final confrontation.

"Alpha Biansky," I began, my voice cutting through the night's stillness, "we stand here as leaders, but we are also bound by a history soaked in blood and loss." My eyes never left his, searching for any sign of the wolf I once knew, before grief had twisted him into this relentless specter of vengeance.

I stepped forward, the gravel beneath my boots whispering of finality. "Your quest for revenge against my South pack—it's poisoned you, consumed you until nothing else remained." I could feel the weight of every life lost in this senseless feud, a burden I carried on my shoulders as their Luna Queen.