The tension in the grand hall is suffocating, a thick, oppressive weight that presses down on every soul present.
The air is heavy with the scent of fear, determination, and the faint metallic tang of weapons being readied.
Every face holds a different shade of emotion—some pale with terror, others set in grim acceptance, and a few burning with fierce resolve.
The entire pack is here, gathered in the heart of the estate, waiting, listening. The silence is deafening, broken only by the occasional shuffle of feet or the clink of armor.
Caspian stands at the center of it all, his presence commanding the room like a storm waiting to break.
King Damon stands to his right, his regal bearing unshaken despite the gravity of the moment.
To Caspian's left is Queen Rhoda, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd with a mixture of sorrow and steel.